


Close Quarters

by Spoon888



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Aliens, Awkward Flirting, Fake-Out Make-Out, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Sticky, all that good shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-03-31 00:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13963140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Starscream accompanies Megatron on an alien trade negotiation after mistranslating the glyphs on the plus one invitation as 'lieutenant', when it actually said 'lover'.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Kiwittin for putting up with my endless ramblings.

Starscream didn't know how this was _his_ fault. Yes, he'd mistranslated the communication, but that same script had been seen by every other member of Decepticon High Command and not one of the idiots had noticed the mistake either.

If anyone was to blame, it was the Lydians for having such a primitive language in the first place. If even Cybertronian programming had difficulty decoding it, it was obviously a backwards way of communicating.

When the day came that Starscream finally took his place as Supreme Overlord of the known universe he was going to ensure every last one of these backwater languages were wiped out and replaced with binary. It would serve them right.

But he wasn't Supreme Overlord of the universe just yet, and he had bigger things to worry about. Such as what to do when the elevator he was currently trapped in with the three Lydian officials and an obviously incensed Megatron came to a stop at the skyhook's guest accommodations.

"High Priestess Tu'Sorro dreams you to have a well night before your presentations," the lead Lydian told Megatron, the translator doing no better a job at translating her words than Starscream had their written invite. "She is much pleasured to hear of your lover's presence. We on Lydia greatly enjoy your respect for our culture and traditions."

Starscream stared at the elevator doors, trying very hard not to make eye contact with Megatron when his leader very stiffly replied, "Yes. We wouldn't _dream_ of disrespecting our newfound allies."

The time to have explained the misunderstanding to the Lydians had long since passed. And even before then, they were a culture that put so very much emphasis on spousal partnerships, and love, and all that disgusting nonsense, for Megatron to admit that he was an unbonded leader, and about as far from any serious romantic relationship as Cybertron was from the end of it's civil war, would damage these vital negotiations before they'd even begun.

Megatron had squeezed Starscream's wing with a vengeance and disguised his threatening snarl of " _Play along_ ," as an adoring smile.

So as far as the Lydians were concerned, he and Megatron were madly in love.

The elevator pinged, and Starscream waited until Megatron and the Lydian entourage had stepped out before following. He didn't want to turn his back on Megatron. Not now. Perhaps not ever again.

"High Priestess was much concern with Cybertronian Civil War when first we entered communication," the lead Lydian went on to explain as they walked the empty, sterile corridor towards what were obviously private chambers. "Allow you access to mining sector AR-13, and war you bring. Was thought. But Cybertronian love-bond enduring-"

She paused and smiled back at Starscream, who had been loitering and really hoping not to draw any attention to himself so he wouldn't have to act like Megatron's loved up 'enduring' partner.

"-and everlasting." She finished with emphasis, "So here you bring, and High Priestess see herself. Of great love, earn great trust."

Starscream fiddled with his translator subtly, wondering how badly it was mistranslating or if this official was really talking like some sort of free-love hippie. The expression on Megatron's face said she was.

"Here is nest," she said, and her two accompanying sisters opened manual doors with flourish.

Starscream almost didn't want to look.

Megatron made this sort of stifled noise that sounded like an aborted groan. Starscream unshuttered his optics, knowing he had to see what he was in for...

He'd heard on the whole trip up here that the Lydians loved love, and clearly had no set boundaries when it came to a professional trip verses a romantic get away. The room had been painted and decorated with deep lustful reds, the lighting dim, to create _that_ sort of mood, and the berth -the lone berth- wasn't half as big as Starscream had been hoping for and was covered in alien furs and silks.

"Yes, like?" Their guide asked, her dainty mesh hands clasped together hopefully.

Starscream made a little whimper of noise, nodding, pretending to be pleased.

"It is adequate." Megatron said stiffly, like he wanted to say anything but. "For myself and my... Mate."

"Pleasure!" The Lydian exclaimed with a smile, and Starscream wished she'd stop using _that_ word. He knew what she really meant, but _that_ word?! "I come tomorrow and tour you to the meeting in the conference room. Till then, it would please you to not be disturbed."

It wouldn't 'please' Starscream to not be disturbed. With the look on Megatron's face, the second the Lydians left he was going to be in for the reckoning of his life.

The three sisters each bowed once before leaving the room, seizing the doors and swinging them closed with a ominous thunk.

Starscream slowly turned to face Megatron.

"...I. I was _sure_ it said lieutenant."

 

* * *

 

Starscream wasn't surprised to find himself evicted to the floor. He supposed an aching spinal-strut was a light punishment compared to what Megatron could have done.

"You could at least offer me one of those furs," Starscream muttered at the lump in the berth.

Said lump shifted, and two dark optics peered over the berth edge at him. Megatron said nothing.

"It's cold!" Starscream complained, sitting upwards. He tugged on the edge of one of the furs, hoping a typically pathetic display would ease at least a little of Megatron's temper. "If I freeze to death the alien saps will be suspicious."

Megatron snorted, and after some shifting, an arm full of fur was flung at him. It was thick, and warm where it had been laid over his leader. Starscream gathered it up and slung it around his wings gratefully, relishing the heat, tucking the lower half of his face into the insulating fluff.

"You wake me again and I'll smother you with a pillow." Megatron warned.

Starscream burrowed deeper into his fur, trying to ignore the lingering scent his leader had left on it.  

 

* * *

 

The guest quarters were situated towards the top of the Lydian's skyhook, the view out the window unobscured. The mining planet Megatron was so keen to gain access to filled the majority of it, glowing lilac in the sun now behind the skyhook. It was that brightness that woke Starscream, and after squinting at it resentfully, he could see why the Decepticons needed it.

All that lilac light? That was raw energon.

A deep sigh and rustling covers drew Starscream's attention to the berth behind him. Megatron shifted, asleep, and the fur draped over his frame slipped away from his shoulders like silk, revealing the expanse of his broad back. He looked very comfortable up there.

Starscream reached behind himself and tried to massage away the tightness between his wings, glaring resentfully.

A sharp knock on the door almost had his spark ejecting itself from it's casing. Megatron woke with a jolt, his optics snapping between the door and Starscream.

The speaker box beside the door lit up, and then the Lydian from yesterday was cheerily greeting them, "Morning great spouses of Cybertron. I bring fulfilment. Please be acceptable."

Starscream supposed she meant she was bringing them fuel.

"What are doing?!" Megatron snapped when the speaker switched off and the door clacked as it began to open. He pulled aside the covers, "Get in!"

Of course, the Lydians would be suspicious if they discovered that of one them had slept on the floor. Starscream nearly kicked himself.

He slipped on the lone fur blanket he'd slept on in his haste to clamber into the berth. There was a frantic scramble as they arranged themselves and Megatron winced when Starscream _accidentally_ kneed him in the groin and-

"Ah, I'm hoping I did not disturb?" Their guide had entered the room carrying a tray of glowing, blue fuel. She paused and took them in. Starscream was aware that he and Megatron were out of breath and likely dishevelled. Great.

"I bring you the breaking of fast."

"Thank you," Starscream ground out, flinching tightly when one of his knees brushed Megatron's thigh under the covers. He took one of the offered drinks, sipping awkwardly.

"Was the bed wonderful?" The guide asked when she offered the next to Megatron. "We had to make the change to strengthen the frame. Our beds can not take the heaviness of one Cybertronian, let alone two in love. Eternal love is vigorous."

Starscream nearly spilled his fuel down himself. He hid his disgusted snort in the glass and gulped it down frantically . Had these aliens no sense of subtly?!

"Yes," Megatron answered her, taking his fuel but pressing the glass to his helm instead of downing it as Starscream had done, using to it sooth an oncoming processor ache. "It's very sturdy."

Their guide nodded, very pleased, oblivious to their discomfort.

"When you are complete this morning I shall find you at the elevator. High Priestess is much eager to be greeting you."

With that, she left, casting them both bizarrely eager looks.

Starscream shot out of the berth the second the doors closed, tossing his empty fuel container down.

"What the Pit is wrong with these aliens? They're all perverts?! Are you sure they actually want to negotiate with you, or are they just a civilisation of xenophiles, eager to watch a couple of Cybertronians in action?!"

Megatron removed his fuel from his forehelm long enough to level him with a disgusted look, " _You_ would think that."

"You're not?" Starscream could scarcely believe that. "We should just tell them. Put a stop to this nonsense. Maybe then they'll give us another room, or an extra berth at least-"

"If you'd stop thinking of your pathetic self for one moment, Starscream, you'd realise access to this planet is more important than your dignity."

"Easy for you to say," Starscream sneered, "At least to them you're still Lord Megatron. They think I'm just your... your-"

He broke off with an exaggerated cringe.

"Your purpose here, as far as I'm concerned, is as a prop," Megatron growled, finally taking a sip of his fuel and sliding out of the berth. "Whatever they think you are, you are. You and your ineptitude got us into this, you're going to help us get out of it."

Starscream slumped. He just hoped this High Priestess wasn't half as much of a creep as her subjects.

 

* * *

 

High Priestess Tu'Sorro was sadly just as invested in their imaginary relationship as every other Lydian onboard the skyhook.

As typical of a ruler, she was decked out in enough gold and red jewels to make Starscream regret not bringing at least his cape. Her jewellery clinked and clacked when she moved- which was a lot. She was a very animated being. It was like sitting across from a wind chime in a tornado.

"You may name me TuTu," the High Priestess happily informed them, smile wide and bright. Starscream arched a sarcastic brow at the familiarity, but she hardly noticed, "Allies are friends. And my friends, they name me TuTu."

"As you wish, TuTu," Megatron responded, and it was the weirdest thing hearing such an odd pair of syllables pass Megatron's lips. Starscream was having real difficulty arranging his face into something professional.

Megatron must have noticed. He kicked his thruster under the negotiation table.

"This is my mate," Megatron gestured to him, denta clenched behind his lips. " _Starscream_."

Starscream offered her a stiff smile, wishing Megatron wouldn't sneer his designation like that.

"Yes, yes," she nodded, and her headdress twinkled as she moved. "A pleasurable fit, I see. You are magnetic. You must have been constructed for one another."

_Oh Primus_ , Starscream thought, slumping down in his seat a little.

Megatron didn't deign that nonsense with a response. Instead he opened his datafiles, perhaps hoping facts and statistics and contracts could protect him any further comments on his 'relationship'.

"You mentioned granting limited access to AR-13 in regards to mining for resources in our communications," Megatron jumped straight in, clearly as tired of this small talk as Starscream was. "But there is the matter of surveying the energon deposits, and defending against-"

'TuTu' waved a long elegant arm, bracelets jangling, cutting Megatron off. Starscream shrank away from his leader's darkening expression, wondering how far he could wheel his chair down the table before one of the Lydians noticed.

"We have much time for this later," she dismissed flippantly, "But less for knowing you. I will know you now. And I will negotiate after."

She was rather stern for a tarted-up backwater alien priestess whose language didn't conform to basic linguistics, Starscream thought. And could tell Megatron was thinking the same.

He also thought his leader might have been moments away from losing his temper and blowing the whole thing, so he leant forwards, faux smile in place. "What would you like to know, TuTu."

"Inform me, Star," She didn't notice the sarcastic lilt he'd put on her chosen nickname, but she paid him back well enough by giving him one of his own. "The history of your greeting."

"How we met?" Starscream realised. He looked to Megatron. But his leader was no help. He was watching as expectantly as TuTu was. Well, Starscream wasn't going to make up some farcical fairytale. The best lies came from truth.

"He was a gladiator." Starscream said simply, "We meant in the fighting pits."

TuTu wasn't satisfied with such a short tale. She leaned in, blue eyes wide with interest. "Yes?"

Starscream avoided looking at Megatron.

"He was... He was a legendary fighter," He continued, ignoring how Megatron shifted beside him. "Very eligible, despite his obvious failings."

"Failings?" TuTu repeated.

"Yes, Starscream," Megatron growled. "Do tell."

"Well," Starscream settled back in his seat, sensing a long awaited opportunity here to speak his mind without immediate repercussions. "Yes, he had influence and power, but he's far from attractive. I mean, look at him? Fortunately for his sake, I was not so shallow as to turn away an ageing has-been when he finally worked up the courage to speak to me-"

Megatron disguised a derisive snort as a cough. TuTu didn't notice.

"-and I could look past his deformities and personality defects-"

Megatron cleared his vocaliser loudly.

"-so I took pity on him when he begged for my spark-"

"Are you quite finished?" Megatron snapped, optics fiery with warning. "Because I think you've said enough."

"Don't be shy, darling," Starscream cooed at him, "TuTu here is a _friend_."

TuTu seemed delighted at being referred as such. She turned her smile on Megatron, "You must have such great love for him to weather his mocking."

"Oh, he does," Starscream told her pleasantly as Megatron silently fumed, "He _really_ does."

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Lydian's skyhook wasn't just a static off-planet diplomatic vessel. It boasted a wide plethora of leisure facilities open to public visitors as well as it's officials. Starscream wasn't the least bit surprised to hear it was the home of the sector's largest shopping mall.

After the day's negotiations (or complete lack of, in Megatron's opinion) the High Priestess insisted she give them a full tour. Megatron's attempts at politely turning her down were quickly thwarted by Starscream's vindictive impulse to make Megatron suffer even more for having made him recharge on the floor. They'd just _love_ a tour.

Starscream flashed Megatron a smile, to make sure he knew it was a punishment.

When she guided them into the elevator and excitedly told them that of the fifty one floors the mall consisted of, the thirty fourth was her favourite, it became fundamentally obvious to Starscream that this expedition was going to take far longer than initially assumed.

"We have to build a rapport with these aliens!" Starscream hissed when the Priestess finally tore her huge staring eyes away from them to enter the mall ahead and Megatron took the opportunity to pinch the sensitive edge to his wing in retribution for having inflicted such a hellish field-trip on him.

"Just let her show us around." Starscream reasoned, "Smile and nod. It won't kill you to crack open that dusty old charisma file, you know. Or did you purge that at the start of the war along with your leadership skills?"

"Since when were you a diplomat?" Megatron growled, and his servo lifted to pinch again, so Starscream launched himself after the Priestess.

The mall was typical of any intergalactic super establishment, garish and opulent and lined with stores just waiting to flog their arguably worthless tat to crowds of ignorant tourists passing through. It was filled with such a variety of alien species that his and Megatron's presence as infamously warmongering Cybertronians would likely go unnoticed. Starscream thought he even spotted a few organics...

"-known for our fine luxuries," TuTu was saying, "Many come far for Lydia's much pleasurable stones and personal ornaments."

"I can see," Starscream said, pointedly eyeing her copious jewellery.

"Oh these?" She smiled as though she'd forgotten she was wearing a small planet's worth of precious metals and lifted her arms with flourish. "They were given by my great love, Ch'Sorro. Given for every rotation our planet completes around it's star we are unified. Much years. See."

Starscream hummed, watching as silver and gold jangled and clinked.

"And how many rotations have you been unified?" She asked.

"Four million." Megatron answered gruffly before Starscream could speak, which was... true, in a way. It was as long as they'd known one another.

TuTu huge eyes lit up like two twin solar flares, her mouth forming a little 'o'. "Much years. Much years and nothing given."

"I give him plenty," Megatron thundered, sounding perhaps a little too defensive.

"Our jewellery is much beautiful," the Priestess told Starscream, ignoring Megatron. "All the colours of the light spectrum."

"It _has_ been a while since you treated me," Starscream tilted his helm back and smiled at Megatron, sensing another opportunity to screw with him. "Hasn't it?"

"No-" Megatron began, but TuTu was already waving them onwards.

"Come now Star, and I shall match your eyes to our finest luxury."

Oh yes, Starscream thought, smiling back at Megatron as he followed the High Priestess. The very finest.

 

* * *

 

  
The jewellers had a machine for the sole purpose of colour matching. That was the sort of technology Starscream could appreciate. He was forever mixing paint trying to perfectly replicate the exact shade of Royal Vosian Red he wore on his armour for post-battle retouches. The colour had been discontinued and style wasn't particularly high on the list of Megatron war time priorities.

And Starscream would rather be dead than look patchy.

Here, it was only too easy to scan his chest and find the _exact_ colour match in an alien stone called Cleophase. TuTu gibbered on about it being a symbol of love and romance and the only reason Starscream was smiling as he listened, was not only because he so enjoyed the deepening frown on Megatron's face, but because _one of them_  had to be the diplomat in this diplomatic mission, and all his so-called-leader was doing was sitting in the corner clearly designated for uninterested spouses, scowling.

Starscream left him to it.

He was just scanning prices, wondering how many zeros there needed to be to make Megatron suitably incensed but not so much that he was massacred in the middle of the night, when a particularly decadent necklace caught his optic.

TuTu noticed.

She was clicking her fingers and pointing before he could say no.

It was a heavy gold chain, paved with the Cleophase stone, and though woefully impractical for a solider such as himself- the way it caught the light, how it's stones complimented his armour...

The jeweller held it up, mumbling something in a dialect of Lydian so prehistoric the translator didn't even pick it up as a language.

"Yes," the High Priestess nodded, "You shall wear it for viewing."

There was little point arguing. Starscream turned towards the mirror, waiting for the jeweller to dutifully fasten the chain around his throat, when Megatron appeared behind him in the reflection instead, carefully taking the chain from the jeweller.

"I'll take it from here," he said softly, and he was acting of course, when he stepped close, his powerful arms reaching past Starscream's face to take hold of each end of the chain and draw up it around his neck. Starscream felt his wings brush Megatron's chest.

The gold clacked against his armour, and with a gentle, careful touch, Megatron fastened it.

Heavy servos weighed down on Starscream's shoulders as Megatron leant in, helm besides his in the reflection, his mouth at his audial and breath warm as he murmured, "You make me buy this and I'll choke you with it."

Starscream smiled softly, as though Megatron had just whispered something charming, like a compliment. Still, he touched the gold appreciatively.

"We'll take it," he gazed at Megatron in the mirror. "Won't we darling?"

A dark shadow fell over Megatron's face. "Yes, _dear_."

TuTu clapped happily.

 

* * *

 

By some miracle Megatron managed to convince their guide that they'd be capable of finding their accommodations from the elevator on their own, so they'd have the opportunity to ride up without witnesses. Perhaps because Megatron didn't want the stench of brutal murder to linger in the same room he would have to recharge in?

Starscream pressed the button for their floor silently, swallowing thickly. The chain felt heavy on his collar. The links were unlikely to break should it be used to throttle him, and he was begining to regret calling Megatron's bluff.

His leader stood beside him and nodded politely to their guide as the doors began to close. They sealed with the soft whine of the airlock, and Megatron's helm snapped sharply in his direction.

Starscream nearly tripped over himself squashing himself into the corner.

"We can share the necklace," he couldn't resist teasing despite the very real danger he could be in. "...but honestly, Megatron, it wouldn't suit-"

He stopped when Megatron _loomed_.

"You're trying to sabotage this," Megatron accused quietly, sounding all the more dangerous for it. The elevator was actually quite small, and Megatron's hulking shoulders filled the width easily, trapping Starscream in his corner. "Either that, or you crave death so desperately-"

"I'm not sabotaging anything!" Starscream snapped, affronted. He'd been _trying_ , fraggit. And had been doing a far better job of befriending the aliens than Megatron had with his cold and aloof demeanour. "Maybe I just want to see how far you're willing to go for this?"

"By wasting war funds on trinkets?!" Megatron slipped a digit under the gold chain and gave it a condescending tug. Starscream pulled back against the sensation, sneering. "You're not as vital to the completion of this mission as you think, seeker. I would be _devastated_ should an accident befall my _beloved mate_."

"You're too clumsy to make anything look like an accident." Starscream rolled his optics, and thankfully the doors pinged as they arrived on their floor. He ducked under Megatron's arm and escaped into the corridor. "-Not to mention stupid."

Megatron's ominously heavy footsteps chased him to their quarters. Starscream darted through, not frightened, but certainly not foolish enough to let Megatron catch him before he'd had chance to calm down.

Housekeeping had been in the room since they'd left that morning. They had remade the berth and set out a buffet of treats and fuels. Knowing the Lydians, there was a good chance they'd been laced with aphrodisiacs. Starscream eyed them suspiciously, but the berth-

"I'm not recharging on the floor again." He told Megatron, turning and standing tall.

Megatron paused where he had been about to inspect the fuel for himself. "Then where _will_ you be recharging?" He asked with interest.

"The berth." Starscream folded his arms. The chain brushed his forearms where it hung lowest. "Unless you want our 'perfect relationship' to end in a very _loud_ argument tomorrow at the negotiation table?"

Megatron's mouth pressed into a firm line, and that was the end of that argument.

 

* * *

 

"When I said I wanted the berth I didn't think I had to specify that meant you were on the floor." Starscream complained, bunching up some of the fabrics in a desperate attempt at building a barricade between himself and his leader.

Megatron watched from over his shoulder, optical ridge cocked. When Starscream sat back on his heels, servos on his hips, finally satisfied that the wall of lumpy furs between them was sufficient enough to prevent any accidental brushing of armour, Megatron rolled his shoulder back and collapsed the entire thing.

"You stupid lump," Starscream snarled, gathering them up furiously. He threw one at Megatron and his leader stole it away for himself.

"Do stop _fussing_ , Starscream," Megatron warned dangerously as Starscream's movements jostled the berth.

"Old mechs die in their recharge all the time you know," Starscream reminded him.

He wasn't the least bit intimidated by his leader's bluster. If Megatron was really going to hurt him he would have done it when Starscream had used up all the warm solvent in the shower earlier. No, he knew he needed a manipulative mind for this mission. And Starscream wasn't going to let him forget it. 

He gave a furious tug to a throw of fur partly trapped under Megatron's heavy aft, his necklace chain clacking loudly against his chest when he moved, and his bedmate finally sat up, pointing.

"Take that ridiculous thing off."

Starscream considered leaving it on out of sheer spite, but it was loud and annoying. He reached back to unclasp it, but he couldn't find the latch. It was fiddly and foreign.

With a heavy sigh Megatron reached for him. Starscream stiffened when Megatron nudged his helm to the side and reached behind his neck -if he wanted to throttle him like he'd so seriously promised he would, now would be the perfect moment.

Megatron's warm digits brushed the nape of his neck, touch light and odd and very un-like him. Starscream repressed a shudder, and then the weight from around his neck came undone.

Megatron tossed the expensive piece of jewellery onto the berthside table carelessly, and Starscream remembered to sneer at him in sarcastic thanks before burrowing down into the throws.

Megatron laid down beside him, heat radiating through the berth from his larger frame, his shoulder inches from Starscream wing, far too close to be sensible.

"Move over."

Megatron snorted, and with a pettishness Starscream hadn't thought even he could posses, shifted closer. What must have been his forearm brushed Starscream's wing edge and sent sensory feedback blasting into Starscream's processor, tingling through his frame.

He tucked his wings close and stared at the ceiling, hyperaware of every minute shift occurring in the berth.

Perhaps he really would have been better off on the floor...

 

* * *

 

Starscream had had many rude awakenings in his long lifetime. Shouting, gunfire, collapsing buildings, assassination attempts -the list went on. But a servo sliding over the glass of his cockpit certainly had the capacity to make the top five when it was _Megatron's_ servo that was doing it.

Deadly instinct had Starscream twisting over and pinning his assailant to the berth, ready to disarm and deactivate before his processor caught up with the rest of him.

Megatron grunted beneath him, optics flickering as they onlined, expression transmuting into a sleepy, squinting frown. Starscream's spark jumped into his throat, halting his ability to provide an explanation as to why he'd just effectively body-slammed his leader like the bed was a gladiatorial wrestling arena.

"Starscream," Megatron murmured, after a sufficiently awkward bout of silence passed, "...You're sitting on me."

Starscream _was_ sitting on him. _Straddling_ him, to be precise. His waist was thick and Starscream's thighs were spread obscenely wide around it. Their recharge-warm frames felt dizzyingly intimate against each other.

He released Megatron's wrists where he'd been pinning them as though stung, giving his servos a shake to rid them of residual  _touch_.

"You were trying to spoon me!" He snarled, wiping his servos on the berth covers for good measure. "I was defending myself!"

Megatron didn't appear to care what his reasons were because: "Starscream, get _off_."

Starscream's gyro must have been malfunctioning because his escape from Megatron's person was far from dignified. He scrambled backwards on hands and knees, his pede catching Megatron's ankle as he attempted to swing his leg from his leader's hips. He overbalanced, and rather than seize the closest thing available to prevent his fall -Megatron's leg- he let himself topple off the berth.

His aft clanged when it hit the floor, likely denting, but it was still a better option than _groping_ Megatron for a handhold.

It was not the best start to the day.

"Idiot." Megatron muttered from the berth.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The High Priestess was kind enough to introduce them to her adoring lover Ch'Surro the next day. Starscream was neither surprised nor thrilled when Ch'Surro immediately declared them her friends and asked that they call her "Choo".

"And I thought TuTu was a ridiculous name." Starscream leaned into Megatron and whispered when the two aliens were too busy fawning over one another to notice.

He was, however, delighted to realise this meant he got to spend the entire day's negotiations listening to Megatron's proud and noble inflection reciting the names 'TuTu' and 'Choo' with sincerity and respect.

Starscream also soon discovered that TuTu was the least invasive of the couple, which he had previously thought impossible.

"I have much studies on your kind," Choo told him, eyeing Starscream like he was a particularly interesting specimen in a laboratory, her fingers steepled together like a super-villain. Even Megatron looked concerned on his behalf. "And I am interested in the unions of Cybertronians. Much methods you have?"

Starscream's translator must have started glitching from the abuse of having to decode such nonsense. He started poking at it irritably, distractedly asking, "Eh, unions...?"

Choo's lips pressed together. She shared a thoughtful look with her lover, "Amalgamate?"

TuTu shook her head, "No, I think... interface?"

" _Interface?!"_ Starscream squawked.

He looked at Megatron out of pure horrified instinct, and Megatron glared thunderously back at him for the implication that he might generously offer to give the Lydian's a lecture on cyberogical reproduction in Starscream's place.

Choo's eyes widened worrisomely, "I have displeased your sensitive relationship with talk of intimacy?"

TuTu watched them across the negotiation table, and there was a suspicious glint in her eyes that made Starscream want to twitch. She was cleverer than she let on.

"Of course not," Megatron answered, and Starscream nearly ignited his thrusters and shot into the air when he felt Megatron's servo touch his under the table. He flinched away, but his leader seized him and pulled his servo up, where their joined hands would be visible to the aliens. "That form of Intimacy is simply a private affair among our people."

Choo seemed to understand that, nodding and looking no less delighted. TuTu was still watching though, so Starscream had to force the cringe from his expression, even though Megatron was near crushing his fingers in his rough, thuggish fist. Starscream wondered if his leader had ever actually held hands before in his life.

Placated for now and understanding that fragging was not a polite subject matter, TuTu began talking about ancient Lydian laws on non-natives stepping foot on their mining planets to counteract Megatron's earlier request to allow his own miners access to the planet rather than having to pay for the use of the Lydian's 'bound-workers' -whatever they were. Drones, most likely.

Still held captive by Megatron's brutally crushing grip -and increasing with every effective protest TuTu offered back- Starscream reached over to take advantage of Megatron's lapse in attention to loosen the finger-breaking hold and rearrange their servos into something more comfortable.

"It's not a question of expenses," Megatron was saying, trying to not be distracted as Starscream weaved their fingers together and let their joined hands fall back to the table. "Simply of trust."

"Trust is a pleasure to be _earned_ ," The High Priestess said solemnly. "And your reputation as war-king is much strong."

Starscream thought that was a good point, and for a moment it looked like Megatron was struggling to think of a counterpoint when he didn't initially respond. But then the spark of an idea brightened Megatron's optics. He lifted their joined hands and brought them to his mouth. Starscream froze.

"That reputation has long since passed," Megatron murmured, and looked at Starscream, his optics smouldering. "I prefer making love these days, not war..."

He kissed the back Starscream's servo. Mouth warm. Lips lingering. Eye contact unbroken.

Starscream's spark _thu-thunked_ in it's chamber.

Somewhere across the table, TuTu and Choo sighed dreamily.

 

* * *

 

Starscream tugged his servo free when they were safe in the elevator. His palm felt hot and clammy. He wiped it against the wall, but the sensation wouldn't leave.

"You can't just molest me every time she backs you into a corner," he told Megatron darkly.

Megatron turned to consider him, "You've lived a sheltered life indeed if you consider that molestation."

"You've a corrupted sense of consent if you don't."

He stared coldly at the elevator doors. Megatron didn't respond for a while.

"Fine," Megatron grunted eventually, "...I apologise. I'll be sure to ask next time."

He sounded sarcastic, but Megatron didn't apologise often, so Starscream supposed he could take that as a win.

Their alien hosts had invited them out for the evening to explore more of the skyhook, like some hideous attempt at a 'double date'. Starscream regretted turning them down now. Even if it meant he'd spend all night fielding questions about the mechanics of Cybertronian reproduction from TuTu's overly involved mate, it still wouldn't have been half as awkward as inhabiting a cosy little room with Megatron until it was acceptably late enough to feign recharge.

"There has to be something to do around here," Starscream turned from the window after nearly an hour of watching the skyhook's force field glow.

"You could always rejoin ' _TuTu_ ' for another shopping trip," Megatron said snidely, because he clearly couldn't let things go.

He was already on the berth -staking his claim early- and appeared to be attempting further research on the Lydians. There was clearly something nagging at him, because Starscream only knew Megatron to care about a foreign civilisation just enough to know how better to exterminate them.

He was frowning down at his datapad with a pair ridiculously tiny spectacles balanced on the tip of his nose. Starscream swallowed down a retort based solely around how stupid the glasses made Megatron look to focus more on finding a source of entertainment that didn't put him at the mercy of a pair of voyeuristic aliens.

He dug around in the storage facilities, finding many things he wished he hadn't -fragrant oils and polishes, some complicated looking bondage, and a phallic shaped vibrating device. The last one he flung back into the drawer and slammed shut before Megatron saw.

His search paid off when he came across a holo-board at the bottom of a closet. He switched it on and the screen blinked online to display a checkered formation.

Ah, he was familiar with this form of strategy game. It required logic to manoeuvre and steal the opponent's pieces. Starscream could play against himself, but Megatron was probably due another ego kicking after the hand-kissing stunt he'd pulled earlier.

"Come here," Starscream told him, dusting off the screen and laying it on the table beside the window. "We're playing."

"I am busy," Megatron didn't look up.

Starscream fiddled with the controls to get the exact setup he was after, "Too busy to lose at a simple game of strategy? Come now Megatron, _sparklings_ know how to play."

"I know _how_ to play, Starscream," Megatron glared over the top of his ridiculous glasses, "it's simply not in my best interests to play against such a blatant cheat."

Starscream snarled, "Cheat?!"

"'Fair' is not a word in your vocabulary."

"Well, aren't you just a pillar of truth and justice," Starscream spat sarcastically, tapping his claws against the board. "Get up here and out-cheat me then."

Megatron took his glasses off to maximise his frown. They looked tiny between his huge digits, "You're not going to shut up, are you?"

"Of course not," Starscream turned back to the board, "I call the red pieces. You can be blue."

 

* * *

 

"I saw that."

Megatron was glaring at the spot where his piece had previously sat. Reluctantly, Starscream dropped it back.

"If you'd been paying proper attention I wouldn't have had the opportunity to steal it." Starscream retorted, and took another sip of his high-grade to brace him for the excruciatingly long wait it took for Megatron to make a move.

A fair game was impossible, but an almost civil one turned out to be manageable with the help of high-grade. Megatron had poured one for himself and then insisted on giving one to him as well. Perhaps he thought an inebriated Starscream was an easy to defeat one.

Wrong. Starscream did his best thinking slag-faced.

"I thought you knew how to play?" He teased, because he had been drinking, and waiting for Megatron was boring.

His opponent glowered across the board.

"You've been rather cocky as of late," Megatron refocused on the board and moved his piece. Poorly. "Even for you."

Starscream didn't bother with a clever retort. He made his move and stole one, two, and then three pieces of his leader's set. Megatron's left optic twitched tellingly.

"I think you know why," he smirked. 

"I know you think my desire to maintain this amicability with the Lydians is going to protect you from punishment for excessive sassing," Megatron lifted a piece and slammed it down with far more force than necessary. It was a move meant to intimidate him.

Starscream took his turn and stole that piece too.

Megatron's fist banged against the table in frustration. "Blasted seeker!"

"Remind me to teach you how to actually play another day," Starscream told him, completing the finishing move and settling back when the screen lit up with a neon blue 'You Win!' on his side, and a red 'Loser!' on Megatron's.

"That's if you live to see another day," Megatron snarled and smacked the board away.

The pieces scattered across the floor. Starscream hoped he hadn't broken any of it. That was their only form of entertainment. Other than talking to one another. Primus forbid.

"You kill me, and you can kiss your precious mining planet goodbye," Starscream pointed to the ugly lilac planet filling the window of their quarters. "You'd have to go to war with a whole other species if you wanted to get anywhere near it after blowing these negotiations. I'm hardly worth the trouble, am I?"

"Don't underestimate the lengths I'd go to rid myself of you," Megatron muttered, hauling himself out of his seat and downing the last of his high-grade.

Starscream watched him lumber to the berth and drop into it. The frame groaned under his weight despite Lydian reassurances that they'd had it reinforced. There was another good reason they weren't actually involved. The berth looked unlikely to survive a Decepticon romp.

He shuddered, having effectively horrified himself with the mental image.

He wasn't going to wait until after Megatron had fallen into recharge though. As awkward as having to lie beside each other and pray for sleep was, it was easier than rescuing his pillow out from under Megatron's bulk and having to shove the great lump of metal off his side _after_ he'd fallen asleep.

Megatron saw him coming and threw him a pillow and one of the thinner throws of fur. He rolled onto his back, one arm folded under his helm. Starscream ignored his arrogant sprawl and curled into himself, wings tucked safe and close.

The berth shifted when Megatron rolled onto his side to face him.

Starscream wanted to jab him in his optics to stop the annoying crimson glare of his gaze.

"Who taught you to play?"

Starscream's annoyance evaporated at the unexpected question. What could Megatron have to gain from that sort of information. "What does it matter to you?"

Megatron rolled onto his back again, staring up at the ceiling, "Curiosity."

"I had a family, once," Starscream saw no harm in sharing such a small thing. "They taught me."

"...Must have been nice," Megatron murmured, and was that resentment Starscream heard? Or wistfulness.

He didn't respond for fear of finding out. Megatron didn't seem the type to pour his spark out after a couple of drinks, and Starscream wasn't the sort to stomach it. There was enough misery in the galaxy already to waste time wallowing in Megatron's as well.

Megatron's optics had dimmed and shuttered now anyway, his vents slowing. His servo had fallen besides Starscream's on the berth, the backs of his fingers worn and covered in deep welts from a millennia spent working them. Starscream stretched out his littlest finger, and it was just close enough to brush the edge of Megatron's.

It was such a staggering thing, the difference.

Starscream had never held a pickaxe in his life. And it showed.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning when Starscream woke, he knew the arm thrown across his middle and the face tucked into the back of his neck was Megatron. His treacherous battle computer didn't register it as a threat, and let him rouse slowly, groggily. It let him push back against the frame behind him so his wings could soak up more of the warmth.

It was nice; was his first cognitive thought before common sense kicked in.

Heated with embarrassment, he tried to extract himself subtly, but Megatron was _clinging_ to him like an asteroid limpet. The old warrior mumbled nonsense in his sleep, his arm tightening, nose nuzzling deeper-

"Oh, stop it!" Starscream hissed, cheeks searingly hot now. He shoved at Megatron's arm and heard the goliath behind him wake with an unattractively sleepy grunt. The arm came away as Megatron rolled back to his side of the berth, dragging the silk berth clothes with him, completely unbothered.

Starscream curled up against the sudden chill, wings shivering as his pumps worked to keep them warm, and wondered if a physical fight to reclaim the sheets would be worth the effort so early in the day. And more importantly, if he'd even win.

Unlikely.

His chrono said he had an hour or so before their guide came bursting through the door to ready them for the day and ask all sort of invasive questions about how they 'slept', which meant he had time for a shower at least.

The recycled oxygen required to kept various aliens alive on the skyhook meant the place was uncommonly dusty. It stuck to Starscream's armour in a greying layer, startlingly noticeable against the pearly white sections of his bodywork. It was more than enough of a reason to re-polish at least every other day, if not more frequently.

He stepped into the adjoining washroom and activated the open shower. He switched the setting from water to a solvent stream and stuck his servo under the gush until it was sufficiently warm enough to step under. He tilted his head back, letting the cleanser seep into all the seams and gaps in his armour where Primus knew what sort of alien particles had settled.

He was just beginning to relax when the door banged open.

"Get out." He snapped instinctively when Megatron shouldered through the narrow doorway. He tried to position himself so he was hogging the shower stream. "You can wait."

Megatron had no respect for privacy nor personal space and tried to shunt Starscream aside to claim the shower for himself. "So you can use up all the heat again?"

Starscream wasn't going to relinquish his place. He tried to grapple with Megatron, thrusters skidding on the wet tile, but his leader's greater mass had already planted itself directly under the shower head. Megatron arched an amused brow as Starscream pushed and slipped and snarled in frustration.

Finally giving up, Starscream left the shower area to seize a bottle of cleaner at random and launch it with all his might at Megatron. It hit him between the shoulders. Megatron turned, furious, and Starscream fled for the door when he bent to pick it up and throw it back.

Starscream heard it smash against the wall moments after he slipped through the doorway.

Cold, wet, frustrated, and only half clean, Starscream kicked at the leg of berth as he passed it. It thumped against the floor and Starscream froze when he heard some part of it snap.

Miraculously, it stayed up on it's four legs, but Starscream was going to let Megatron sit on it first before risking it's stability.

Reinforced bed his aft.

 

* * *

 

Little progress was made that day. The High Priestess had barely gotten the awkward morning greetings out of the way before one of her aids came rushing in to beckon her away from the negotiation table. Starscream focused his audials to listen in on their hushed conversation. With the translating problems to boot, he only garnered that there was some sort of insurrection occurring in one of the mines.

Curious. Perhaps he and Megatron weren't the only ones after the treasures the Lydians had to offer?

"Much apologies," TuTu told them with graceful resignation when she returned. "My authority is desired elsewhere this day. But it should please you not to worry. These occurrences are much often and are swift to be ended."

"You often suffer rebel insurrectionists?" Megatron asked with faux concern. Starscream could see he was suspicious. "I was led to believe you were a pacifistic society."

TuTu turned her gaze on Megatron, and her face was still soft and open, but her eyes held a dangerous focus to them.

"There is no violence," she said sweetly, "And no rebels. Simple displeasure, for now."

Starscream felt a little creeped out from that fixed smiled on her face. He side-eyed Megatron. His leader was sharing TuTu's hyper focused gaze.

There was something Megatron wasn't telling him.

"The removal of the displeasure shall be swift," TuTu continued, as her aid pestered her to make haste. "Find pleasure in this free day, and I shall return to continue our meet with notice."

Megatron grunted, standing. Starscream followed suit.

"Best of luck to you then." Megatron offered stiffly.

The High Priestess bowed in acknowledgment, and swept away. Megatron waited for her to leave before taking Starscream's shoulder and steering him in the other direction. Starscream knew enough about his leader's tells not to speak until they were alone.

 

* * *

 

They once again managed to lose their guide with the farce of wanting to spent some time _alone together_. All it had taken was Megatron throwing a heavy arm over Starscream's shoulders and them standing together in a loving half embrace for one horrifically inappropriate moment, and they were home free.

"Come," Megatron rumbled, shoving Starsceram away from his side, rough now that no one was around to see.

Starscream stumbled, and huffed, "Where?"

"Where else," Megatron headed towards the elevators, clearly intending to retreat to their guest quarters.

"No," Starscream was not spending a moment more than he had to in that dingy little love nest the Lydians had made them. The evenings were bad enough, but an entire day?! "We need to talk. You're keeping something from me."

Megatron flashed him a long suffering look, impatient, "Why do you think we're returning to the room?"

"I don't think they're as private as we'd like to believe," Starscream pointed out, because the Lydians were invasive in so many ways already. It would hardly be surprising to discover a camera mounted above the headboard, or microphones in the shower.

"If that were so they'd know the true nature of our relationship." Megatron frowned, disbelieving.

"What's to say they don't?"

Megatron snorted aggressively, "Your paranoia never ceases to amaze me."

" _You're_ the one that thinks they're up to something!" Starscream jabbed a digit at Megatron's wide chest. " _And_ you're refusing to tell me what! How am I supposed to behave _but_ paranoid?"

Megatron grumbled something under his breath.

"Fine," he pressed the button for the elevator and stepped in.

Starscream followed, watching closely in case he needed to bail out last minute because Megatron pressed the floor for their quarters. He didn't, instead entering the number for the observation deck.

Satisfactory. With all the paraphernalia on the skyhook the observation deck was unlikely to be busy, and the 'romantic setting' was in keeping with their claims of wanting to spend the day alone together.

The elevator opened up into the uppermost deck. The indoor section was built from large windows to view the mining planet they orbited and it's colourful assortment of satellite moons. Outside was a three hundred and sixty degree balcony offering unobstructed views, with airlocks situated at every corner for primitive oxygen breathing species to suit up against the harsh airless space outside.

Starscream flicked one of the space suits condescendingly as he and Megatron stepped into the airlock, and waited for pressure to even out.

"Don't fly off," Megatron warned, like he seriously thought Starscream was going to flee his presence the second he had a chance.

Starscream just sneered at him, because obviously he wasn't going to fly off. Too far.

His wings needed the workout.

The airlock pinged green and the doors opened out onto the balcony. The chill of space crept under Starscream's armour and he locked the panels tighter together. Next to him Megatron's vents emitted a great puff of stream, warming his exterior components manually.

Starscream was disappointed to find the artificial gravity extended out here as well. He ignited his thrusters to give himself a boost.

"Starscream!" Megatron thundered, and a firm servo found his ankle and tugged before he could escape. "Thrusters on the ground. Now."

Starscream upped the blast, and Megatron almost stumbled trying to keep hold of him.

"Five. _Minutes_!" Starscream protested, gaining enough momentum to briefly lift _Megatron's_ colossal weight off the deck. "Let go!"

One last push and Megatron's grip broke. He thunked back to the deck heavily and Starscream soared away. He threw his thrusters into reverse just before reaching the force field and twisted back to offer his stranded leader a smug little wave.

Megatron was shaking his fist and yelling.

"-down! You blasted- -now! -- Seeker!"

Starscream could only assume he was being threatened.

He opened his comlink and hailed Megatron, flipping into flight-mode for greater manoeuvrability as he began his circumnavigation of the skyhook.

" _Brat!"_ Megatron's voice snarled over the comm. " _Get back here_."

"Oh, do stop fretting Megatron," Starscream let himself sound patronising. "One short trip, that's all. I'll be back before you know it."

There was a pause, likely Megatron fuming to himself, before he received an answer.

" _Two minutes._ " Megatron conceded stiffly.

"Five."

" _Do not test me, Starscream_."

Starscream disconnected the com and elected to take as long as he pleased. He flew the circumference of the skyhook, scanning for hidden weaponry or military hangers. There was little to raise concern, nary a sentry gun in sight. So the Lydian's claims that this was a diplomatic vessel was one truth at least.

After around ten minutes he decided to return to Megatron before his leader self-combusted with frustration.

"That was not five minutes." Megatron snarled when he landed, stalking closer.

"Miss me?" Starscream teased, brushing nonexistent dust from his armour. "I was only sightseeing."

Megatron must have caught on, because Starscream comm was receiving a hail the next second.

" _What did you find?"_ Megatron asked over it, looking away from Starscream and moving towards the balcony railing, seemingly enthralled by the view.

Starscream joined him, " _No weaponry. Long range or otherwise. The only flight hanger they have is the one we arrived through, full of leisure cruisers._ "

" _You're positive?"_

 _"Of course I am! Do I look like an amateur?!"_ Starscream scowled at the mining planet, " _Why? What's going on?"_

Megatron sighed aloud, bracing his forearms against the railing and letting his helm dip below his shoulders, "Nothing I can be sure of."

Starscream switched off the comm, fidgeting with sudden apprehension. They may not be outgunned, but they were outnumbered. "Is someone going to try and kill us?"

"I might," Megatron grumped, completely unhelpful. "And don't be egotistical. Why would they care to take your life?"

"Why would you care about anything less than an assassination attempt?"

"Perhaps because lived through so many," Megatron said darkly, looking at him, before finally admitting, "I have my doubts about the Lydian's supposedly moral high grounds."

"Morals," Starscream snorted, "If it's not affecting us or our chances at getting into that mine, why should we care?"

"Spoken like a true oligarch, Starscream," Megatron shook his helm, sounding so beyond disappointed that Starscream felt the weight of his judgement settle low in the his tanks. "Why _should_ we care..."

 

* * *

 

They ignored each other in the quiet seclusion of the outer observation deck right up until their guide -not as easy to be rid of as they'd assumed- knocked on the glass from inside and waved at them enthusiastically. She pointing towards the airlock, as if to say, 'I'm coming out'.

Megatron's comm message of, " _Take my servo_ ," was the only warning Starscream got before Megatron was grabbing him anyway, in that same finger-crippling grip.

He hissed, twisted his servo out of the vice, and scowled at Megatron before pointedly showing him how to actually hold hands like two mechs that weren't trying to break one another's fingers in some misguided show of strength.

"You _hold_ ," Starscream muttered out of the corner of his mouth, ignoring the flex of Megatron's palm against his own as they waited for their guide to exit through the airlock. "Not crush."

Megatron grunted.

"Much apologies to be interrupting your pleasure," the guide finally emerged from the airlock, out of breath. Starscream wondered if the poor thing had had to rush all the way up here. "But my High Priestess has become returned."

She clapped, because such a thing was worth applauding apparently.

"So the negotiations are to proceed?" Megatron guessed.

The guide shook her head and Starscream felt Megatron's mood deteriorate as the grip increased. He pointedly dug his claws in to make a point.

Megatron didn't seem to notice.

"High Priestess Tu'Sorro has retired this day after much stress, but would be much pleasured for you to join her in the ballroom of dance this evening, so that you may consume and converse informally."

Starscream only heard one word. And it brought back a whiplash of memories from his life before war. He felt overwhelmingly nauseous.

"... _Dance_?" He whispered, horrified.

The guide nodded enthusiastically, "High Priestess would be much displeasured should you not join her. She fears for the strength of a love so unsocial."

"It's called privacy-!" Starscream began.

"Tell your Priestess we will be joining her," Megatron agreed, and to Starscream's utter revulsion added. "My mate and I adore dancing."

Starscream scowled.

Let's see how much Megatron _adored dancing_ after Starscream ignited his thruster on his pede half a dozen times.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Starscream was going out of his way to be difficult.

Such behaviour was nothing uncommon from such a habitually irritating nuisance of a jet, but tonight, Megatron just did not have the patience.

"Now!" He pounded the door of the washroom for what had to be the forth time. He was close to starting an ominous countdown, but Starscream would doubtlessly call his bluff and he'd look a fool when he reached zero and no retribution came.

"The longer you pester me, the longer I'll take!" Starscream's muffled squawk travelled through the door.

Megatron stalked back and forth, consulting his chrono. The High Priestess would be waiting. Before long she would send someone up to them, and the less time he, Starscream, and their joke of an attempt at being couple spent being dissected by her underlings, the better.

Finally, the door swung open to reveal Starscream. Steam from the shower followed him out into the main room and the scent of some indulgent polish wafted off his armour.

Starscream span, glancing back at his own wings.

"Do you see any smudges?"

"No," Megatron snapped without bothering to look, seizing the seeker's wrist and dragging his over-polished backside towards the door. "We are late enough as It is-"

"Then another moment won't hurt," Starscream slipped free of his grasp with some clever little spin and duck, rushing back into the room.

"Starscream!" Megatron's denta gnashed together.

Undeterred, Starscream headed for the table beside the berth, snatching up the heavy gold jewelled chain he had manipulated Megatron into buying him.

"It would look suspicious if I wasn't wearing the extravagant gift my _darling mate_ had given me," Starscream teased, coming back with it, extending it for Megatron to take.

Megatron was tempted to say Starscream was perfectly capable of putting it on himself, but didn't for fear of making them even later. He took it and Starscream turned his back to him, over shined wings catching the light.

Starscream _did_ look nice, and Megatron was inconsolably frustrated with himself for thinking so. 

He took both ends of the chain and fastened it, taking care not to ruin the glossy finish around Starscream's collar.

"There," Starscream touched the chain appreciatively and turned to face him. " _Now_ I'm ready."

"Hm," Megatron huffed, privately agreeing that the opaque crimson stones adorning the chain really did compliment the seeker. They brought out the crimson of his optics, and that in turn sharpened his features. He looked dangerous.

Megatron rather liked that.

Starscream arched an elegant brow.

"...Well?" He pushed, and his polished denta gleamed as lips curved into a mischievous smile, "I thought we were late?"

They _were_ late.

Megatron snapped himself out of it, striding for the door, the click of Starscream's thrusters following.

When they were together in the elevator, shoulder to wing, Starscream's polish wafted pleasantly. Megatron couldn't identify what scent it was exactly, but deep in the recesses of his memory banks, it reminded him of something. Familiar and soothing. Somehow it didn't matter so much that they were late. 

He cleared his vocaliser, and gruffly lifted his arm for Starscream to take. Starscream eyed him silently for a moment, before looping his own servo through, fingers brushing Megatron's forearm. The elevator dinged, and they strode out together. Arm in arm.

 

* * *

 

The Lydian's attempt at music was a series of high octave chimes undercut by a low constant drone. It sounded like a migraine. Megatron felt both he and Starscream falter upon entering the room and hearing it.

"...Perhaps their audial sensors aren't as advanced as ours?" Starscream offered quietly.

Megatron thought that was too generous.

"I think it's their taste that's lacking in advancement," he grumbled, leading Starscream on.

The dance hall was a huge doom-like antechamber low on the skyhook. It's displacement from the rest of the superstructure meant it was one of few places that had a roof. To maximise such a feature, it was entirely glass, giving the dancers and diners a spectacular view of the stars above. The hall itself was lit mostly by mood lighting, switching from yellow, to red, to purple and onwards.

Megatron locked up instinctively; colour-filtered light decreased visibility. He and Starscream would constantly be changing optical filters in order to see their own servos in front of their face.

"Still think I'm paranoid?" Starscream muttered, clearly on the same train of thought as they navigated the tables lining the dance floor.

The High Priestess was sat at the head table, situated on a dais overlooking the dance-floor in full view of her many guests. Beside her sat her mate, Ch'Sorro, who thankfully _wasn't_ poised with pen and pad, ready to interrogate them over something crass; like if wings got in the way during certain _activities_. She seemed too engrossed in shovelling whatever was being served into her face to remember to make them uncomfortable.

"Guests from Cybertron!" TuTu stood and clasped her hands together when she saw them. She gestured to the vacant seats next to her, the Cybertronian place settings obviously for them. "Star, you are looking much desirable tonight."

It was awkwardly phrased, but Starscream craved compliments in whatever form. Megatron tried not to sneer as the seeker preened at the attention, his wings hitching higher.

"Why thank you. At least _someone_ noticed," he feigned dramatics.

Megatron took his place beside TuTu, leaving Starscream to take the outside seat. He dropped into his usual open legged spread, but flinched when Starscream slapped his knee reproachfully.

He scowled, and drew his legs together.

The eagle-eyed Priestess noticed the silent exchange.

"You have much manners for once gladiators," she praised, and her gaze focused on Starscream most of all. "Star especially. You do not behave as a common filthy pit-brawler is known to?"

Megatron felt his temper surge to the surface, but Starscream was gripping his wrist under the table and cutting in before he could unleash it. A smooth thumb brushed the back of his servo, and his anger seemed to evaporate.

"You're misinformed TuTu," Starscream purred, still absently petting, "Megatron is the former gladiator. _I_ was never something so plebeian."

"He was a terrorist," Megatron interrupted before Starscream could begin his holier-than-thou spiel. The seeker kicked him under the table before he could go on to mention the senatorial mass murder, which Megatron was sure TuTu would have been _thrilled_ to hear.

He hand on his wrist withdrew as punishment. Megatron ignored the sense of disappointment.

"I was a freedom fighter," Starscream corrected stiffly. "For _his_ cause. And a scientist before."

At that, Choo's head lifted, eyes bright.

"It would pleasure me greatly for you to share your knowledge," she began, but TuTu waved her down, leaning in, interested in Starscream.

Far too interested for Megatron's liking.

"You turned from knowledge, to war. For him?" TuTu propped her chin up with her dainty, jewelled hands. "That is much romantic."

Starscream fidgeted, and the mood lighting changed so it looked like he was blushing, "I- well, as I said- He was very... charismatic. Then."

Choo jumped in again, ready to make everything so much more awkward by asking, "Is 'charismatic' a thing for you that means..." She paused, thinking, "Sexy?"

"Yes," Megatron confirmed quickly. "That is exactly what he meant."

Starscream's thruster heel stabbed into his pede. Megatron rode out the pain smiling. The lighting changed again, and yes, this time Starscream certainly _was_ blushing.

 

* * *

 

Choo flirted and pestered the High Priestess into taking her out onto the dance floor not long after Megatron had finished his fuel. When the two Lydians stood, hand in hand, and stared down at him and Starscream, there was an obvious pressure to join.

And Megatron needed to dissolve the thick tension that had settled between them after he'd joked about Starscream's past as a terrorist. Which was true (creating horrific anarchy might just be Starscream's greatest talent) but not the sort of thing said to impress potential allies.

He stood, extending his servo, palm up, to Starscream.

"Join me?"

The seeker looked down at it, uncomprehending. So Megatron took his wrist, tugging Starscream out of his seat in what he hoped looked playful to the watching Lydians.

A threatening squeeze, and Starscream grimaced, "I- I'd love to."

Happy, the Lydians disappeared onto the floor, leaving Megatron to concentrate on not crushing the servo he held in his own like he had previously been shown. Still, Starscream adjusted his grip exasperatedly.

"You don't need to hold me like you think I'm going to escape," Starscream muttered, his fingers warm and smooth, laced with Megatron's bulky digits. "I want to keep the feeling in my fingers, thank you."

Megatron let the sarcasm wash over him, leading Starscream down from the dais and in amongst the swirling swaying couples.

When they stopped, Starscream went to take his arm in an open position Megatron vaguely recognised as old-world and high caste. It was the sort of formal dance a Prime or an aristocrat would be learned in. The sort Megatron didn't know, and wouldn't be caught dead attempting.

He knocked Starscream's servo away and seized his hips instead, tugging the seeker into an inwards facing closed position, their frames flush. Starscream seized up, his optics bright at their sudden proximity.

All Megatron could smell was his polish.

"This is simpler," he murmured, adjusting Starscream's uncooperative servos on his own frame, planting one low against his chest and looping the other around his neck. "Stand close."

Starscream angled his helm away, trying to create a little distance.

"I'm not- dancing like some- some Kaonite _trollop_." He hissed, trying to drag Megatron's servos _up_ his frame.

Megatron pulled him in again. Their armour clacked together.

"It's Tarnish." He corrected, "And they're watching."

Starscream twisted to see that the Lydians were glancing their way, likely wondering what the problem was.

"Fine," Starscream's jaw twitched, "What are the steps?"

Megatron dipped his helm, mouth at Starscream's audial, "Follow my lead."

He took Starscream's servo and pushed him away. Starscream made a muffled squawk of protest, almost overbalancing before Megatron yanked him back again, using his momentum to pull him into a precarious spin.

Starscream fell into his chest with a huff, and then a scowl. "Show off."

Megatron could take that as a compliment.

He tucked Starscream close with one servo splayed across the seeker's lower back, under his wings. He stepped back, dragging Starscream into the simple eight beat routine, chassises together

Just when Starscream started gaining confidence, Megatron span him again, tugging him into an outwards facing position, forcing him to muddle through the dance backwards. Starscream glared over his shoulder, and Megatron felt wings flutter against his armour.

"If your servo moves any further down my cockpit, consider it forfeited," Starscream warned.

Megatron twisted Starscream to face him and relocated his servos to more gentlemechly positions, letting an inch or so of space exist between them this time. Starscream's face was glowing with embarrassment, and that was enough of a victory for one night.

Except Starscream misstepped and closed the distance again. They bumped together. Megatron corrected, and Starscream did it again, floundering steps he had previously mastered.

"This stupid dance doesn't make any sense..." Starscream complained, looking anywhere but at Megatron.

Megatron slowed, and the change of pace turned their dance into more of a sway. Starscream leaned into him and followed his lead lazily, switching his hold to loop his arms around Megatron's neck instead.

But slower was better. It gave Megatron an opportunity to watch the Lydians as they performed their own admittedly bizarre version of partnered dance a few metres away. They weren't paying him and Starscream any attention now. They could probably leave if they were subtle about it.

"You can let go," he told Starscream, releasing him.

Starscream's helm lifted from his shoulder. He looked surprised, his mind obviously elsewhere. "What? Why?"

"Escape." Megatron nodded to the door. "Quick. Before they see us."

They weaved swiftly through the dancing couples, ducking behind a pillar and taking a longer route to avoid the notice of Lydians they recognised as the High Priestess's aids, before they reached the safety of the elevator.

The doors hissed shut, and they were on their way.

Starscream slumped back against the wall with a heavy exhale. His cheeks still tinged with colour.

"I haven't danced in over two million years." He said, seemingly to himself.

Megatron focused on the ascending numbers displaying their floor level, wishing they would move faster.

"You have now." He answered anyway.

"I ...I prefer it," Starscream went on to say, sounding a little haunting and stunted. This time Megatron had to look at him just to bear witness to his social constipation. "Your... _Tarnish_ style. I've never come across it before."

"You wouldn't." Megatron turned back to the doors. "It would have been beneath your noble Vosian caste standards."

A snort, "And where did you learn? The fighting pits?"

"Long before then," Megatron answered abruptly, ending that line of inquiry.

Starscream fell silent. The doors opened.

Starscream shouldered into the corridor ahead of him, his wings doing an obnoxious little flick as he passed, nearly catching Megatron across the face. He should have been angry, irritated at least, but he caught the scent of that polish again. He had to ask.

"Your polish?" He called, and Starscream half turned, brow arched. "What is it?"

"It's infused with Perihexian xan crystals. From Cybertron. I was surprised they had it," Starscream shrugged, then sneered. "Why? Do you _like it_?"

He was obviously trying to tease. But-

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do."

Starscream blinked, his expression unreadable. Then with a little huff of annoyance he wordlessly pushed through the doors to their quarters. Megatron followed, and once inside, found Starscream pacing the room in front of the windows, servos at his neck, struggling to unclasp his decorative gold chain.

Megatron moved to help, "Here, I'll-"

"No." Starscream said abruptly, and struggled a moment more before clumsily managing to remove it. "I can do it myself."

Tension settled between them, in no way helped by Starscream's restless faffing. Megatron watched him move around the edge of the room, close to the walls, avoiding his gaze, poking at things pointlessly and muttering to himself like he was pretending to be busy with something.

Megatron was just wondering which method would prove the least life threatening -ignoring whatever had worked the seeker up, or taking Starscream by the shoulders and giving the malfunction a good shake?- as he moved to take a seat on the end of their bed.

The frame groaned worrisomely and Megatron had enough time to conclude that _that wasn't good_ before several things cracked, the legs gave way, and the entire bed frame crashed to the floor with an explosive slam and great cloud of dust, Megatron sprawled in the middle of it, coughing.

Starscream bursting into sadistic cackles solved the 'awkward tension' issue, at least. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

"How very convenient." Megatron grumbled.

"How is the berth breaking convenient?!"

"I don't know Starscream, as the party responsible I was expecting _you_ to tell _me_."

"You're the wide load that collapsed the stupid thing when you sat on it."

"Because _you_ sabotaged it this morning."

"Sabotage," Starscream snorted, "If _you_ hadn't interrupted my shower, _I_ wouldn't have kicked it."

"If _you_ hadn't exhausted the heated solvent, _I_ wouldn't have felt the need to interrupt-"

"I can't go five seconds in this place without you feeling the need to invade my personal space!"

"You should have considered that before getting us into this mess!" Megatron's voice thundered in the darkness.

Starscream bit into his lip and stemmed the urge to match his volume. They were in a confined space and Megatron had the obvious size advantage. Not to mention all thirty tonnes of that size advantage was currently wedged right up against Starscream on the strip of a cot the Lydian concierge had managed to scrounge last minute.

"We shall make much haste to have your bed restored for tomorrow." She had told them, smiling placatingly after Starscream's explosive rant about her not being able to find a second cot. "Until then, please do not partake in rigorous pleasure until we are sure our furniture has the strength."

"Yes," Starscream had hissed, having lost all desire to argue with her any further. "We shall avoid... doing that."

The cot, although small, would have been adequate for a mech Starscream's size- had Megatron done the decent thing and conceded to sleeping on the floor.

Starscream wriggled to get his wing out from under Megatron's shoulder, kicking about for space. His thruster hit Megatron's knee and a gust of hot exhaust wafted over helm as Megatron huffed.

"Watch those," Megatron growled.

Starscream rolled and finally freed his wing. It sprung back and slapped Megatron.

"Starscream!"

"Move over!" Starscream snarled and pushed, half over the edge.

"There _is_ no room."

"Whose fault is that?"

With an angry snarl, Megatron rolled onto his side, turning his back on Starscream. He could still be heard muttering resentfully about 'entitled brats'. His shift did make extra room though, so Starscream mirrored his position, letting his wings hang over the edge.

"You're breathing on my neck," Megatron complained.

"You're welcome," Starscream returned sarcastically.

 

* * *

 

In Megatron's fifty million years of existence he had never been cuddled. It was an indignity no one would dare presume inflict on him.

Starscream hadn't gotten that memo.

Arms were locked tight about his waist, and claw-tipped digits had found their home in the narrow seams of his abdominal armour. Megatron squashed the treacherous little thought that quite liked the security of being encased in strong arms, a warm weight at his back.

Lord Megatron, scourge of Kaon, was no mech's 'little spoon'.

He rolled his shoulders, jostling Starscream and waking him with a jolt.

The arms and warmth vanished with a curse as Megatron heaved himself upright.

"You'll keep this to yourself," he warned, glowering at the defensively curling seeker on the cot.

Starscream rolled his optics so hard Megatron thought they were about to glitch.

"Like I'd tell anyone..." He muttered.

The wreckage of their berth still sat across from them. With any luck the Lydians would have replaced or repaired it before evening. Megatron stretched and his backstrut clicked. He couldn't spend another night on that cot, not with Starscream kicking and shoving and _cuddling_ him.

He stood from the berth, completely ignorant of his role as a counterbalance for Starscream lying over the opposite edge. The flimsy cot overbalanced and Starscream screeched in surprise, tipping over the side. He hit the floor with a clang, the cot landing sideways on top of him.

Megatron sighed deeply at the furious noises coming from underneath it.

 

* * *

 

Starscream's bad mood descended ever further when their guide held out a hand to prevent him from following Megatron into the elevator.

"The High Priestess requests the company of your Lord Megatron alone this day," she smiled gently, but her hand looked firm on Starscream's chest. "Your presence is much forbidden."

Megatron had stopped in the doorway, spark spluttering at the thought of being separated. Simply because it was suspicious. Not because-

"Starscream is my mate and my Second," Megatron argued on his behalf, "I trust him more than anyone."

Starscream arched a brow behind the guide's back, smirking stupidly. Megatron ignored him.

"There is to be no debating." The guide continued to smile. "The High Priestess has arranged the company of another for your Star today."

Megatron was ready to argue further. He didn't like the thought of leaving Starscream to his own devices here anymore than he did back on the _Nemesis_. He liked even less that they were being separated at alien insistence. Just a moment ago he would have jumped at a chance of a Starscream-free hour, but on his terms. Not theirs.

He had no choice in the matter either way. Starscream relented first.

"Go ahead darling," he cooed, smile as sharp as the denta flashing beneath it. "I'm sure they'll keep me well entertained."

"Indeed," the guide agreed, "Consort Ch'Surro shall be greeting you shortly. She will be much pleasured for your company."

Megatron saw Starscream visibly pale, but he was already in the elevator, the guide pressing the control to seal the doors. Besides, a little alien Sex Ed with Choo wasn't going to kill Starscream.

That thought in mind, a smile twisted his mouth just as the door sealed. Starscream saw.

His com pinged a moment later and Starscream-

" _I'm telling her you have a micro-spike."_

Megatron nearly punched the emergency stop on the control panel before regaining control enough to remind himself that Starscream's immaturity and lies had no effect on his very real, very sizeable endowment.

" _Don't force your Insecurities on me_." He sent back, and blocked the com before Starscream could threaten to do worse.

 

* * *

 

 

Starscream had visions of being chained down to an examination slab and getting poked and prodded and probed for the over curious alien's enjoyment, but Ch'Surro actually met him in the entryway to what looked like her own quarters. It was decadently furnished in colours of royal red and cream. The table and chair she sat at appeared to be solid gold and set out in front of her was a drinking set of warmed beverages.

"Come well Star," she greeted him warmly, gesturing to the chair across from her. "It would pleasure you to join me in what they call the post noon tea?"

It was worse than being interrogated. It looked like she wanted to _gossip_.

"Hello Choo," he murmured unenthusiastically, taking the seat anyway. "Looks like we've both been excluded today."

"It is no great shame," Choo agreed, lifting an decorative vase and pouring Starscream a cup full of indigo coloured energon. "I am no diplomat, and my love, Tu'Sorro, she believes today she will win over your Lord Megatron. She wishes for no distractions."

Interesting. Starscream tried to hail Megatron on the com to give him the heads up, but it was still blocked- the fool. He dismissed that frustration and sniffed at the warm energon instead, apprehensive to take a sip. He did, tasting coppery and sweet.

"Well," he lifted it to Choo in a toast, "To our partnership."

"Indeed," Choo clinked her ceramic tea against his energon, "And now we are true friends. True friends share their secrets."

Yes, definitely gossip. It was like talking to an excitable adolescent over iced energon at a sleepover. Her wide eyes glinted at him over her cup. He hummed noncommittally into his drink, processor rapidly sorting through half baked ideas to get him out of this.

"I'm not one for secrets," he lied.

"But you are for knowledge," Choo clinked her tea as she set it down. "Secrets are close to knowledge."

That was one way of putting it, Starscream supposed.

"Go ahead then," he sighed, "Shock me."

"I have no electricity conducting abilities," Choo denied seriously, and somewhat sadly. "It would pleasure me should you help anyway. The Lydian empire has become expanded with a new sector, new allies, and I must visit. But we bring misunderstandings."

"Can't imagine why," Starscream mumbled into his cube.

"You were an explorer of worlds," Choo pointed out, "You have much knowledge about the cultures beyond your own. Even..." She leaned in and whispered scandalously, " _Organics_."

Starscream frowned, "How did you know that?"

Choo smiled, "Your Lord Megatron. I heard him speak of you with such pride to Tu'Sorro. He said you were knowledgable beyond all others. And I think, yes, I shall ask him."

Starscream's spark did an unpleasant little twirl in it's chamber, "I- he said that?"

"Of course, he is your mate. His love for you is much powerful."

"Yes, yes," Starscream set his processor right again. Megatron was- he was laying it on thick, but it was working. They had the Lydians eating out of their servos. "What were you asking?"

"I shall ask everything," Choo lifted her head high and pulled a pad and stylus out from under the table. "I have created a list and shall start at the beginning."

It looked like a long list. Starscream picked up the vase and poured himself another glass. He was going to be here a while. "Go on."

"Reproduction," she read.

Starscream slammed his energon down and looked at her.

She wasn't immune to the glare.

"I said I shall start at the beginning," she said defensively, "And there is no greater beginnings than creation."

"I'm sure your motives are strictly professional."

She was smiling cleverly at him. "Professionalism gives me much pleasure so I shall not make enquiries of organic reproduction," she pulled a face, "but of Cybertronian. There is much variety of knowledge I have found. Much conflicts and much methods."

Starscream nodded, wincing, trying to disassociate.

"I ask you," Choo leaned forward eagerly, her necklaces accidently dunking into her tea. "What method do you and your Lord Megatron use?"

Starscream felt a glitch start in his left optic. "...Why don't you tell _me_ how you and TuTu do it?"

He'd rather not know, but if reminding her of boundaries could save him from having to muse on what he and Megatron would be like in bed together, so be it.

Rather tragically, it didn't work.

"We on Lydia have only one array." She clapped her hands happily, "And only one method of pleasure. We give and receive together. We come together and stick, like magnets."

Starscream knew he was staring, "...Oh."

"Yes," she continued. "It is much sad that pleasure can only be felt in our one way. Which is why I ask you, Star. Why does your Lord Megatron put his mouth on..." Choo consulted her notes. "Your spiker?"

"Spike," Starscream corrected automatically, his optics bright enough to blow the bulbs. He thought he might as well give her an answer though, "...And it's because he knows I'm in charge."

Choo scribbled that down. "There is submission in interface?"

"There is." Starscream sat back in his seat, ready to slander Megatron's reputation beyond help, "My mate requires a strong hand."

"And you have one?"

Starscream frowned at her tone, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"We on Lydia are not so different. My love Tu'Sorro is of a height and weight as me. You and your Lord Megatron..." He pursed her lips and titled her head, "There is much difference."

Starscream snorted, "It's only paint, Choo. Just because he's grey and I choose to actually pay attention to my bodywork-"

"He is broad and you are streamlined," Choo shook her head, "He wears scars, where you glimmer, and he is weary and aged, where you are-"

"He's not that old!" Starscream snapped. "And there is nothing wrong with differences."

"Differences create conflict."

"Well, I happen to _like_ a little conflict," Starscream hissed, squeezing his energon until cracks appeared in the glass.

If Choo noticed, she didn't say anything.

 

* * *

 

The High Priestess did not meet Megatron in the negotiation chamber. Instead he was summoned to the flight hanger, where a large transport ship was sat cooling, the ramp not yet lowered.

"Guest from Cybertron," TuTu greeted him, her arms open. She was dressed plainly today, lacking her usual glamour and jewellery. "Much apologies for the destruction of your nest bed. We much underestimated the strength of Cybertronian love."

"It was Starscream's fault," Megatron easily shifted the blame, and the embarrassment, onto the party not there to defend themselves. "He can be rather over-exuberant."

TuTu nodded, not looking at all surprised, "It shall be fixed. As shall our friendship."

She waved a hand and two deckhands came rushing over to the ship, flipping the hatch to manually lower the old transport ship's ramp.

"You have shown much reluctance to consent to using the Bound-Workers," TuTu continued, watching the ramp lower and then gesturing for Megatron to follow as she boarded. "But it is tradition. And they are strong and enduring. You shall be much pleasured by their condition."

Megatron followed her up, internally resigned at the thought of humouring the Lydians over their subpar drones - as little matched up to Cybertronian standards. TuTu swept through the ship ahead of him, heading for the storage facilities towards the back of the ship, where crates of supplies were usually kept.

But when she entered in the code for the lock and the door groaned open, they weren't greeted by boxes full of inactive mining drones.

Megatron stared into the faces of aliens, rows of them, all manner of shapes and sizes and species.

All of them dirty, weary, collared, and very much sentient.

Very much slaves.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Starscream was still simmering hours later when he returned to the guest quarters. He would have preferred Choo just interrogate him over interfacing practices than dissect his and Megatron's pretend relationship. At least then it wouldn't have felt so personal. It didn't matter that they weren't _actually_ mated, they were still a partnership, of sorts. And they worked together well. They made a good team. What did she know?

He wasn't defensive. He was simply-

Alright, so he was a little defensive. But Choo's relationship wasn't all that great. Starscream was fairly sure TuTu was every bit the psychopath Megatron was.

Starscream marched into the guest room, vaguely registering Megatron's presence at the window. He was all ready to launch into a tirade about how if he was ever left alone with Choo ever again, he was going to pour bleach into the oxygen generators and let everyone suffocate on the chlorine gas, when he noticed the empty cubes littering the furniture.

He picked one up, sniffed, and his olfactory stung from the overpowering stench of high grade.

"Megatron?"

The old warlord wasn't just leaning against the window staring out of it, it seemed to be the only thing holding him upright. Sluggishly, Megatron turned his helm. And grunted.

"You're drunk?" Starscream whispered, hardly believing Megatron could be so stupid. Here they were, in foreign alien territory, possibly under surveillance, possibly among enemies. And Megatron gets himself sloshed.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Megatron murmured, his optics a dull weary colour as he looked down on the mining planet.

"Yes, it's all very lovely," Starscream snapped, because getting sappy over the scenery was no excuse for getting drunk. He stomped over and took Megatron's arm, tugging him away. "Did you finalise the deal? Can you even remember?"

Megatron shook his helm. Starscream didn't know which part he was saying no to.

"She's the devil, Starscream."

"Who?" Starscream frowned, not really listening. 

"TuTu," Megatron growled, stumbling. 

"What- what are you talking about?" Starscream took a great deal of Megatron's weight as he guided him across the room.

There was, thankfully, a new berth in place of the wreckage they'd made of the last. This one was supported by iron and cinderblocks. It barely made a squeak when Starscream shoved the glitching Megatron onto it.

Megatron sprawled listlessly where Starscream had tossed him, his optics fluttering closed. "All things foul would wear the brows of grace..."

"Is that poetry?" Starscream gathered up some of the fur throws and tossed them over Megatron. "Because I'm not in the mood for a recital."

"I was right," Megatron mumbled, but he didn't sound happy about it. "I knew there was something-"

Starscream stared down at the half-conscious nonsensical idiot on the berth, servos on his hips.

"...And I thought my day was bad." He muttered.

Megatron's optics flickered, and then focused on Starscream as though he had only just noticed he was there. His squinting expression softened, servo opening and fingers beckoning. "Join me."

Like Starscream just couldn't _wait_ to spend the night in bed with a drunk, snoring, drooling scrapheap of a mech. Megatron began to rise, and fearing the old fool would topple off the berth or crash into something and injure himself, Starscream obediently climbed up, sitting upright with his back resting against the headrest beside Megatron, just close enough to keep his leader where he was.

He watched, arms crossed, as one of Megatron's arms slithered over to touch him.

Starscream picked up the heavy limp and put it back at Megatron's side.

It crept back over just as slyly.

Starscream wasn't at all new to ducking the advances of drunken old idiots. He was used to the leers, the overconfident arms slung over his shoulders, fingers accidentally brushing his wings. But Megatron stopped just shy of actually touching, his fingers hovering beside the armour of his thigh, like he was waiting for Starscream to push into him.

Starscream wondered if Megatron even knew _who_ he was trying to come on to. He'd never seen the old mech so inebriated.

"Enough now," Starscream picked up that wandering servo again and moved it into the open space between them. Megatron gripped him back though, and didn't let go.

Starscream wasn't likely to win a battle against such a drunk Megatron, so he just let the fool hold him, absently stroking the scuffed armour of his servo. There was a particularly deep scar in the centre of Megatron's palm, one that, Starscream noticed, repeated on the back of his servo, like it had been run through with a blade.

It looked old. Older than the war.

"Where did you get this?" He asked curiously, rubbing his thumb across the length of the raised welt.

"Mining," Megatron mumbled, optics closed again. "The stockpile was short. One of the mechlings was carrying. I took res-resbon- said it was me. Thieving servos wear scars..."

Starscream's grip unconsciously tightened on Megatron, "So you took the blame for a thief?"

"For a mechling," Megatron breathed, his helm lolling to the side

"Why?" Starscream asked.

Megatron didn't answer. He was already asleep, deep breaths turning into drunken snores. Starscream didn't wake him. He laid down, servo still laced with Megatron's, the feel of the raised scar in-ignorable against his own palm, and the drunken ramblings of his leader playing around in his processor.

He wondered what Megatron had found so foul about TuTu. 

 

* * *

 

  
Unicron himself was banging the gong to signal The End Of All and he was doing it right behind Megatron's optics. Or at least, that's what it felt like.

For the longest time he refused to move, to open his optics, to face the consequences of what had felt like a well needed processor numbing binge the night before. Then he felt the silk sheets slide away from his frame and someone place something relievingly cool across the armour of his torso, over overheated, abused fuel tanks. He cracked a stinging optic open to catch sight of his saviour.

Starscream.

"Ah," Starscream murmured, voice blissfully low, "I was beginning to wonder if you'd gone into stasis."

Megatron just grunted at him, and then felt a spark of guilt for it when Starscream leant over and placed another cooling pad across his optics, to soothe the headache.

He took back every bad thing he had ever said about Starscream. He was a good seeker. The best.

"Our guide came to collect us." Starscream said, and Megatron groaned. "You can relax. I got rid of her. I told her we'd been testing out the new bed late into the night and you needed an extra few hours to recuperate. You're fairly decrepit, so she was happy to believe me."

Megatron frowned under the cooling pad. Maybe not so good after all...

"So," the berth dipped and Megatron peeled away the edge of the cooling pad to see Starscream sat cross-legged next to him, expression expectant. "Since I've freed up our morning, you're finally going to tell me what's been going on."

Memory files from the day before flooded back into Megatron's strained mind. The faces of the slaves, his own past staring back at him, and it was just as dark and hopeless as he remembered it having been. Resentment settled low in his tanks, and spite was always the best cure for a hangover.

He sat up, wincing but determined.

"How are you at hacking alien security systems?"

Starscream arched a brow, "I'm sure I can figure it out."

Such a clever seeker. Megatron didn't doubt that he could.

 

* * *

 

A data storage library existed somewhere on the fifty first deck. Starscream remembered their guide mentioning it in passing, hoping to entice them into a lengthier tour of the skyhook. That was where Megatron wanted to go.

Starscream was able to hack into the skyhook's security mainframe from one of the helpful visitor consoles dotted around the superstructure. The firewalls were fairly primitive compared to Starscream's own system. It took him seconds to gain the skyhook's schematics and every last one of it's security codes.

The 'library' itself wasn't off-limits to visitors, but the only sections free to browse were art, hobbies, children's stories, and other fluff. They passed poetry and Starscream pulled out a datachip at random, offering it to Megatron.

"This what we came for?"

Megatron took the datachip and actually looked at it before snorting and handing it back, "I don't have time to be indulging in 'erotic sonnets', Starscream."

Starscream fumbled with the chip before shoving it back, "I didn't-!"

"Restricted section," Megatron ignored his fluster and pointed towards the back, where the lights were lowest and a strip of identify verifying lasers surrounded blocks of datachips. "I trust you can fool the security?"

Starscream tutted, striding ahead of Megatron, "Don't insult me."

The restricted section was unguarded -the Lydians had too much faith in their security- and the nearest bystanders were far from their dark corner, too busy admiring the over decadent artwork of the library to notice anyone actually looking amongst the files.

Starscream remote hacked the system using the codes he'd stolen earlier. The Lydians must not have noticed his intrusion because they still worked. He ensured the lasers would recognise his and Megatron's spark signatures.

"Done."

"You do have your uses," Megatron praised, and boldly stepped through the laser. It accepted him.

Starscream followed cluelessly as Megatron browsed the datachips, digits running along and up the length of the bank.

"What are we looking for?"

"History," Megatron murmured, lips pressed together as he concentrated. "Politics."

"Oh," Starscream leant back against another bank, "How _exciting_."

"You know how I feel about sarcasm."

"You know how _I_ feel about being left out of the loop!" Starscream snipped back, impatient now. He understood that Megatron trusted him little, the feeling was mutual, but they were alone here. They _needed_ each other here.

In a strictly professional sense, of course.

"Here," Megatron finally pulled out a chip, unsubspacing a datapad. "This was what I was looking for."

The datapad activated, and Starscream shoved close to get a good look in case Megatron hid it from him. It was a historical document. The Lydian Empire and it's origins. Megatron skipped straight to a section on 'Expansion to Foreign Sectors and the Beginning of the Silver Age."

There was a lot of boring jargon about leaders, political acts, forced treaties, the binding of workers-

"Wait-" Starscream snatched the pad, reading more intently, "Forced? _Binding_?"

"I suppose that's Lydian for 'Invasion' and 'Slavery'," Megatron murmured, expression dark. "They force treaties, enslave the rebellious populous and use their labour to fight their 'displeasures', and fund their decadent lifestyles."

He looked around at the library then, with it's fine gold and silver art, it's beautiful floor...

Starscream released the datapad with a thoughtful noise. Their newfound allies were slavers then? Very _powerful_ slavers with a _slave_ army and _slave_ workers, and here he was, with Megatron and his rumoured _slave_ origins and a huge chip on his shoulder.

"We're outnumbered," he told Megatron gently, slowly, to get it through his thick helm, because they _couldn't_. "We won't win-"

"When has that ever stopped you?" Megatron snapped angrily, subspacing the datapad and chip. "She wouldn't be the first head of state you've assassinated for me."

"I'm not saying 'no'!" Starscream argued, louder than he'd intended, "I'm saying we need a plan. We need an escape route-"

"You said yourself they have no weapons!" Megatron barked.

"That we _know_ of!"

"Just as I thought," Megatron said nastily. "I've been waiting for that legendary cowardice of yours to rear it's ugly head."

"Maybe _I've_ been waiting for your idiotic sense of nobility to get us killed!" Starscream fired back, stretching onto the tips of his pedes to make himself taller.

Megatron matched his posturing, looming forwards, mouth opening to offer another retort, when the sound of sharp footsteps interrupted, approaching closer.

Starscream's spark jumped into his throat. He looked left. Looked right. There was nowhere to hide both his and Megatron's bulk. No excuse at the ready for _why_ they were snooping in the restricted section.

Starscream didn't want to be caught. He didn't want the Lydians to deem them a threat enough that they were locked away. He didn't want to be a slave!

He was not the right frame type for mining!

None of those panicked thoughts justified the stupidity of his next move.

He grabbed Megatron by the collar seam. It was easy enough to yank him down, he was already stood so close.

He kissed him, sharp nose bumping the ridge of Megatron's, his mouth awkwardly closing over soft unresponsive lips. _Kiss back, fraggit_ , he thought desperately as the footsteps drew closer, _just kiss_ -

Megatron did. Lips parting receptively, pushing back so that suddenly Starscream wasn't kissing Megatron, but Megatron was kissing _him_. Tugging him in. A servo settling on his lower back. The other brushing his cheek. Starscream squeezed Megatron's shoulders and let himself roll with the breathy, fumbling, hot-

"Ahem."

That was their cue to act surprised at being caught. Megatron didn't break away. His glossa swept through Starscream's mouth.

" _Ahem_ , guests from Cybertron-?"

Megatron pulled free and Starscream gasped for air, cheeks burning like a furnace, lips swollen. Megatron still had him pressed up against his front, caressing the armour below his wings, keeping up the charade.

"My apologies," Megatron breathed, and his optics were dark and smouldering. He even managed to look annoyed at being interrupted. "We often get carried away."

"This area is much restricted," the Lydian librarian shook her head. "It would pleasure me to show you much more appropriate materials?"

"No no," Starscream wheezed, waving his servo dismissively and wriggling bashfully out of Megatron's grip. "We, we should be leaving."

"Indeed." Megatron purred his agreement, and threw an arm around Starscream again, tucking him back into his warm armoured side. "We'll take this elsewhere."

The walk to the elevator took a lifetime. Megatron's servo rested on his hip. His digits flexed and tapped and stroked into the seam below Starscream's waist. Lydians watched them, curious, so neither of them spoke, not even over their coms.

It wasn't until the elevator doors shut that Megatron finally realised him. Starscream awkwardly side-stepped out of his personal space. His spark was in his throat.

"Quick thinking," Megatron said gruffly, staring at the doors.

"Well," Starscream squeaked, coughed, cleared his vocaliser, and to compensate for his humiliation, proudly said. " _Someone_ had to think of something."

"Interesting that kissing me was the first thing to spring to mind." Megatron commented.

Starscream wanted to blast a hole in the bottom of the elevator and throw himself in it.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Starscream loitered behind as Megatron poured over their stolen information, shoulders hunched and tightening with every page he changed. Starscream wrung his servos together, still reluctant to speak.

Their earlier argument hadn't resurfaced, yet, (not in the wake of their brief spit sharing episode) but it was unlikely to be forgotten. No mech in the universe matched Megatron for stubbornness. If he wanted to bloody his servos, he would, and Starscream did not have the bulk necessary to hold him back if (when) he decided to rip the High Priestess's head off.

Megatron wasn't particularly good at taking council, but still, Starscream had to try.

"It's... not that I don't understand," he began slowly, gently, when the silence became too stifling, "I know how you feel-"

"Know?" Megatron's harsh tone implied Starscream's sympathy wasn't appreciated, nor wanted. He didn't look back. "What could _you_ possibly know?"

Starscream pressed his mouth into a thin line to _keep it shut_ , and turned away. Let Megatron sulk. At least it gave Starscream a few moments of peace and quiet to contemplate things for himself. Such as why Megatron had bothered with the secrecy. Why he hadn't voiced his suspicions earlier?

It would have saved them time and sanity and the need for... diversions.

_Lips soft with surprise and servos gentle on his wings._

Starscream turned from the window to frown at Megatron's hunched down frame, the line of tension in his shoulders, the stiffness of his neck. Megatron was too old to be sitting like that. The fool would throw his back out and Starscream would have to suffer listening to him tossing and turning all night, grumbling about his aching spinal strut.

He wasn't giving _anyone_ a back rub.

He crossed the room and took Megatron's shoulder. Megatron didn't acknowledge him or his touch. The old mech's optics were barely focused on the datapad in front of him, like he had finally reached the threshold of what he could stomach to read.

Intentions shifting, Starscream gave his shoulder a squeeze, not knowing how else to offer comfort, and not understanding how strangers' suffering could effect a warrior like Megatron so.

Starscream was forced to accept that maybe he _didn't_ understand.

"They will die," Starscream promised quietly, because it was better than reassurances. "You know I will help you kill them, when the time is right."

Megatron took Starscream's servo over his shoulder. The same marred with the double sided scar. Starscream felt pressure around his digits as Megatron squeezed them. Neither of them said anything, but the gentle touch spoke of gratitude. They had reached an understanding.

Then Megatron pulled away. Starscream released his shoulder, sensing the moment had passed when he closed down the datapad and subspaced it.

"I know what to do." Megatron said, looking and sounding, for all accounts, like his old-self.

Starscream arched a brow, "Do you?"

"I'm afraid we'll have to continue this little farce of ours a while longer," Megatron said, not sounding particularly regretful. "We're going to agree to the Lydians terms."

"Agree?!" Starscream wondered if kissing Megatron earlier had somehow glitched the stupid mech. "Really?"

"Oh yes," Megatron nodded smoothly. "We will make allies of them. Arrange payment for their slaves. Leave this place. Gather our armada-"

"-And kill them?" Starscream finished with a buzz of irrepressible excitement.

"And free the slaves," Megatron corrected, looking amused.

"But we will still kill them?" Starscream pressed, following when Megatron rose from his seat. "I get to kill someone, at least? I think I've earned it."

"Starscream, _dear_ ," Megatron soothed sarcastically, "You've never bothered seeking my permission before, why start now?"

Oh, Starscream did enjoy a good assassination plot.

 

* * *

 

It wasn't a surprise that neither of them could recharge.

It was always like this. Like sparklings on the equinox, too excited at the prospect of opening gifts, he and Megatron would work late in the war room, pouring over their campaigns, reassessing every angle, arguing and insulting one another through the night till enemy ships were on the horizon and there was nothing left but the battle.

Starscream would never admit how much he enjoyed those nights arguing; flicking markers across the holographic battlefield at Megatron to attract his attention, rearranging things to his liking when his back was turned.

They weren't there yet though. Those were things to look forward to when they returned to the _Nemesis_ and began their real campaign against the Lydians. For now, it was still just patience and deception.

"We may be far from the war chambers," Megatron said, placing the holographic checkered board on the table. "But we can always sharpen our skills with lighter strategy."

"You can," Starscream came and sat down. "You're not much of a challenge for me."

Megatron didn't rise to the bait. Instead he activated the board and it lit up in practice mode.

"Then perhaps you could teach me?"

Feeling rather smug, Starscream picked up his chair and dragged it around the table to sit beside Megatron instead of opposite. If the old fool was finally willing to admit Starscream was his better (and this would be the first of many) he'd be happy to tutor his less skilled leader.

He showed Megatron the basics, generously sharing the best of his starting moves and wisely reminding Megatron not to think two steps ahead, but to think thousands. Winning the game was more important than stealing the pieces.

"Pace yourself," Starscream told him, moving his piece and directing Megatron on how to steal it from six moves away.

He did. Quick learner.

"How was that?" Megatron asked, dangling the stolen piece in front of Starscream's face with the cockiness of someone that _hadn't_ just been shown exactly how to get it. Starscream rolled his optics.

"Good," he praised reluctantly, but before he could say more, he noticed a gap on his side of the board. And Megatron hiding something behind his back.

Ah, cheating already.

"Amateur," Starscream reproached his lack of subtlety.

He reached to take his stolen piece back but Megatron lifted it above his helm and held it out of reach. Starscream went for it anyway, chair scrapping across the floor as he leant in. Megatron's knee knocked his and Starscream looked down from where the game piece was being held just beyond his finger tips, to find Megatron a hairs breadth away.

His fuel pump stuttered.

Megatron huffed a soft laugh at his poleaxed expression. His breath warmed Starscream's cheeks they were so close. 

"That's cheating." Starscream said stupidly, staring into Megatron's dimming optics.

They creased at the corners as Megatron smiled.

"Isn't it just..." he said, and kissed him.

He could have melted a diamond. Starscream stood no chance.

There was a servo on his cheek, rough and worn but still gentle as it tilted Starscream's jaw into a better angle. It wasn't hurried or desperate like their panicked collision in the library. This time it was Megatron teasing -teasing him like always, his thumb stroking under Starscream's optic in time to the wavelike movements of his mouth. Glossa rolling across his lower lip-

He made an overwhelmed noise, tingling all over. Megatron drew back.

Starscream's optics flashed back online to find Megatron frowning at him, his lips wet and slightly parted as he breathed deeply. His servo was still on Starscream's cheek. And then it wasn't.

"I apologise." Megatron rasped vulnerably, sounding regretful, "I-"

Starscream grabbed his stupid bulky helm with both servos and mashed their lips together. His cheeks flared like a supernova with embarrassment, because Megatron must think him the clumsiest idiot- but those thoughts vanished as Megatron purred and kissed back. The stolen game piece clattered to the floor as Megatron dropped it in favour of grabbing Starscream's thighs.

Blunt, squared digits dug into Starscream's armour with relish, before slipping beneath his knees and sliding up under his aft. Another hard squeeze. Starscream made a noise like a squeak, jumping, but liking it. Then he was up, lifted out of his seat.

Next he was on his back, the game pieces Megatron had hastily knocked over jabbing him between the wings. He didn't care. He was horizontal and Megatron was climbing on top of him. Between thighs which had fallen scandalously wide to fit Megatron's broad girth.

The kiss broke and Megatron went for his throat -a true gladiator- sucking wire clusters and hidden sensors until Starscream's thrusters were kicking against the table with pent up frustration.

He grabbed Megatron's giant head again and yanked it back for a kiss, biting his lips and thrilling when he heard and _felt_ Megatron growl, a subtle warning to play nice.

Megatron rolled his hips down, grinding. Paint scraped and Starscream's cockpit screeched against Megatron's unrelentingly hard chest. The glass would scratch.

He lurched, even in the throws of passion too vain to let such an affront lie. Megatron grumbled unhappily as Starscream wriggled, trying to convey without words that he wanted to be taken to bed, not fragged across a table like some harlot Megatron had met in a Kaonite bar.

Megatron huffed something that sounded like a curse and an impatient '' _Alright!_ " and slid off, hoisting Starscream with him.

Megatron's far from gentlemanly conduct had him toss Starscream over his shoulder like a sack of coal, rather than a lover he intended to lie with. Starscream scratched his back in revenge, and Megatron must have gotten the hint, because he lowered Starscream slowly, letting him recline gracefully across the furs and silk of the berth.

Starscream opened himself up as a reward, perhaps too easily given, but when Megatron descended on him from above, patience was the furthest thing from his processor.

But they had barely had any fun at all when the nagging feeling that they had forgotten something finally broke through Starscream's fevered euphoria.

"Cameras!" He gasped, grabbing at the berth sheets.

Megatron cursed and fumbled and after some rearrangements they were hidden from view under the covers. Megatron's optics bright in the shadows. The heat from their frames trapped and building. Starscream's wings kept twisting in the sheets bothersomely. He took it out on Megatron's shoulders, carving through thick armour with his claws.

With no small amount of pestering on Starscream's part, Megatron let him climb on top. And his lap was as good as any throne. His strong servos only guided as Starscream took control, hips circling, rolling back and forth, watching as Megatron's optics dimmed and gazed up at him worshipfully.

The covers may have slipped down _too far_ , but let the Lydians creep over the recordings. The entire skyhook would be annihilated soon enough, and Starscream wasn't stopping. Not for them. And not with Megatron leaning up to steal kisses like he couldn't get enough of them. And especially not when Starscream was so enraptured with how wrong he had been about Megatron's fusion cannon compensating for something.

So wrong.

And so, _so_ good.

Starscream finished and Megatron rolled them, the sheets spilling off his frame and falling to the floor. He took his own overload slow and deep, lacing their servos together in his last fervent moments. Starscream's legs lifted into the air and tightened around Megatron's waist when he felt _it_.

The berth had proved it's worth and lasted the entire wall-banging duration. Megatron was impressed, slumping against the headboard and patting it appreciatively. 

"It outlasted you, in any case." He said flippantly, servo lingering on Starscream's cockpit like he owned it, fingers splayed across the expanse of glass. 

Breathing still heavy, Starscream watched the smug idiot through shuttering optics, weak and aching all over in the best way imaginable. He mumbled a half-sparked, 'shut up'. Or thought he did at least.

He was asleep before he remembered how to work his glossa.

 

* * *

 

The shock didn't hit Megatron until the turn of the skyhook let the morning sun in through their window.

Starscream, by all appearances, seemed content with the state he had been left in. Megatron spied the crinkle in his neck cables where he'd bitten them, and the row of dents his fingers had pressed into Starscream's hips, and wondered how angry the vain seeker was going to be when he woke. 

He had some time though. Starscream was still asleep, lying on his front and hugging the pillow Megatron had slipped him in order to reclaim the arm that had long ago lost feeling under his weight. There was a serene little smile on his face.

Very un-Starscream-like.

It was so serene in fact, that Megatron once again twisted worrisomely to ensure there wasn't a knife in his back.

There wasn't. Megatron exhaled with relief, oddly convinced he couldn't have summoned up anything more than fond resignation at Starscream using an interface as a distraction to gain the upper-hand anyway.

Potential assassination certainly added to the passion of an interface.

"Are you going to stare at me all morning?" Starscream murmured against the pillow, not as asleep, as Megatron had suspected. His optics remained offline, mouth still curved into that smile.

"What else is there to look at," Megatron returned nonchalantly, like the view out the window couldn't compare to the seeker in his bed.

Starscream flicked his optics online, casting him a withering look before stretching impressively, the silk sheets spilling down off the rest of his glossy cockpit. Dark smudges under his optics betrayed the late night and Megatron saw that his frame was marred even further with what it was that kept him up. He looked all the more resplendent for it.

Mesmerising.

Starscream's legs shifted under the covers and Megatron caught him wince. He felt a dark swell of pride inflate his chest, because _he_ had done that. He had wiped the smirk off Starscream's face, and stifled his clever little comments.

As he had always suspected, all it had taken to tame Starscream's wild spark was a good _hard_ -

"And why are you looking so smug?" Starscream's dangerously low voice cut across his thoughts.

"Haven't I earned it?" Megatron folded his arms behind his helm.

Starscream watched him for a moment, before mischief twisted his expression. He began crawling, cat-like, towards Megatron. Slow, measured, predatory, until knees were on either side of Megatron, a warm weight across his hips, and he could smell Starscream's polish again.

Starscream leant in. Megatron parted his lips expectantly, waiting for him to close the distance.

Only for Starscream to flick him in the helm.

The ' _ping_ ' echoed through his mind. He flinched, "What-?"

"Get your processor out of the gutter," Starscream reprimanded him, somehow still such a self-important menace. He climbed off Megatron and the berth, heading to the wash room. "And get up. They'll come for us soon."

Megatron exhaled heavily through his nose, stubbornly staying in the bed. He wasn't going to start letting Starscream dictate to him. Not because of last night and certainly not in hopes of repeating it.

"Megatron," Starscream pressed, voice travelling through the open door of the wash room. "Now."

Megatron snorted and threw the covers away- not because Starscream had told him to, but because he'd been about to anyway.

"You'd better be up by the time I get back in there!" Starscream threatened over the rush of running solvent.

"I am up!" Megatron bellowed back, of half a processor to barge into the shower and _drown_ him. "Insufferable seeker."

Something banged in the wash room, "I heard that!"

Megatron glared at the ceiling.

It didn't look like he'd tamed _any_ part of Starscream. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

"You remember the plan?" Starscream asked, distractedly brushing nonexistent dust from Megatron's chest.

Megatron did.

Though conceived in parts between their endless kisses, excitable and wistful, it was still very much effective. Play along, win their trust- return to annihilate them. Megatron nodded, watching Starscream fret at him as they waited for their guide to arrive.

"I look _fine_. Stop fussing," he tried, but didn't have the spark to just shove Starscream away.

"There's just one last thing," Starscream hummed, and reached for his face.

Expecting Starscream to rub away at some sort of smudge, Megatron rolled his optics and leaned into it. He blinked, surprised, when a pair of warm lips pressed to his cheek plate instead.

"There," Starscream drew back, finally satisfied.

"What was that?" Megatron asked, digits itching to yank Starscream into a smothering kiss, to shove him against the wall-

"Practice." Starscream shrugged. "We'll give the Lydian's our best performance yet."

"Performance," Megatron rumbled, shaking his helm, trying to be stern. "This is serious work. You had better behave yourself."

Starscream pouted, "Don't I always?"

Megatron gave him a Look that was answer enough. If Starscream didn't behave there would be repercussions. And they had a long flight back to the _Nemesis_ waiting for them on the other side of this galaxy. Just the two of them. Alone. No witnesses or polite company for Starscream to hide behind in transit.

"Behave." He warned one last time.

Just as the elevator lit up to signal the arrival of their guide, Starscream smiled slyly.

"Make me..." he whispered.

Desire blasted through Megatron at Starscream's goading smirk, and he would have. But the guide stepped out of the elevator, all smiles and obliviousness.

 _Later_ , Megatron promised over the com channel, and took Starscream's servo.

He must have done it right for once. Starscream squeezed his fingers reassuringly and didn't try to escape his grip.

"Guests from Cybertron, I trust you had a pleasurable night together?"

Starscream snorted like an idiotic child at her unintended innuendo, so it was up to Megatron to keep a straight face.

"We did, very much so." He agreed.

But the guide noticed Starscream's immaturity, "I see your Star is much pleasured this morning."

Starscream wheezed, sounding dangerously close to asphyxiating himself.

"Shall we?" Megatron quickly changed the subject, dragging his Second into the elevator behind him and stabbing at the button. He appeared to be the only thing keeping the ridiculous seeker upright as Starscream turned and pressed his helm against his shoulder, trying to get a grip.

Megatron scowled to prevent a smile pulling across his mouth.

Starscream had no right to behave so endearingly.

 

* * *

 

  
The High Priestess stood tall and elegant in the antechamber to the negotiation chamber. She wore her trademark bracelets, gold and silver and studded with precious stones. Starscream felt Megatron tense beside him at the sight of her. He took his wrist and squeezed firmly, but it did nothing to settle the frown on his leader's face.

"Guests from Cybertron," she sung musically, "It pleasured me greatly to know of the rekindling of your love."

Starscream remembered the excuses he had offered the Lydians the previous day with a grimace, but also couldn't help but wonder on the probability of secret cameras. TuTu was looking very _very_ happy.

The bigger her smile, the deeper Megatron's frown.

"We had a lot to discuss," Starscream interjected pleasantly, knowing the coiling tension in Megatron's frame meant it was unlikely he would be able speak so casually with TuTu. He was never much a diplomat, and asking him to keep his temper now might have been a step too far. "Together we've come to a decision."

The High Priestess's eyes widened, as though surprised Starscream had any say in the ultimate fate of these negotiations. He could almost see her recalculating her tactics in that inflated alien head of hers.

"Of course." She smiled, after a pause only a moment too long. "Come."

She swept into the chamber ahead of them. Starscream gave Megatron a moment to vent through his anger before giving him a nudge.

"I'll do the talking," Starscream stated. "You just sit and look pretty."

Sharp optics snapped down and Starscream could tell Megatron's bad temper had a whole new target. "So now _I'm_ the prop?"

"I know how entitled snobs think," Starscream reminded him, and tapped his own chest. "I happen to have grown up around them, remember?"

Megatron arched an amused brow, but was mollified enough to let Starscream lead him in through the door after TuTu. He bent low to murmur, "I thought you were one."

"No," Starscream hissed, moving them around the table to their usual seats, "I'm cultured. There's a difference."

Megatron didn't answer, but Starscream caught a sly little optic roll when Megatron released his servo to pull out a chair and offer it to him.

A weird little thrill of warmth blossomed in Starscream's spark as he sat down. Megatron pushed him in.

"I must be confessing something to you now, guests from Cybertron," TuTu had been watching them from her place across the table. They snapped their gazes to her, optics bright with expectant surprise.

For a moment Starscream thought she might actually acknowledge and confess the crimes of her people--

"When first I was meeting you I did not believe you were truly lovers," she went on, and Starscream's spark stuttered in his chest. He subtly scanned the room for the exits, gearing himself up for a quick getaway.

"I assure you," Megatron growled defensively. "We are."

"We tested your love much." TuTu focused on Starscream. "...But now we see we were incorrect. When you look at him now, Star, I see the devotion of four million years in your optics. It pleasures us greatly to see it."

Starscream was struggling to hide his embarrassment, because Megatron was looking at him curiously. But at the same time the High Priestess was a manipulative harpy, and she was trying to unsettle him.

"Yes, he's wonderful." Starscream said dismissively, "Now, we are on a tight schedule, my mate and I. After much deliberation we have decided to agree to your terms and will forward payment for use of your," he worked his glossa around his mouth, "Workers."

"The bound workers," TuTu nodded approvingly. "A knowing decision. They are much incentivised to work with haste."

Megatron shifted like he was about to say something, or worse, fly across the table and behead the High Priestess. So Starscream snatched his wrist under the table, hoping his grip would restrain him.

"Just what we want." He smiled encouragingly, pinning Megatron's shaking arm down forcibly.

The High Priestess stood, "It has pleasured me greatly to make friends of Cybertronians. You must be returning for a visit."

At that, Megatron finally spoke, his denta glinting as he smiled predatorily, "Oh, I'm sure we will TuTu."

TuTu smiled, not at all appearing to realise that the next time she'd see them would not at all be a 'pleasurable' occasion.

* * *

 

 

Their guide saw them to their small transport ship in the flight hanger. The _Admirable_ was just how they left it. None the less, Starscream wasted an extra half an hour doing a thorough walk around under it's hull, checking for bombs or any other manner of sabotage as Megatron started the pre-flight checks in the cockpit.

"You're paranoid," Megatron told him smoothly when he finally appeared on the flight deck.

Starscream didn't rise to it, dancing around the controls to try and claim the captain's seat. Only for Megatron to notice his mad dash and throw himself backwards into it before he could.

"I'm a better flier." Starscream fumed, standing over him expectantly.

"And I have superiority," Megatron threw back, flicking a switch to start the engines, "Sit down."

"In your lap?" Starscream purred flirtatiously, turning so he was hiding a mischievous smirk behind his shoulder.

Megatron wouldn't at all mind Starscream taking up space on his knee, but he expected it was only so the seeker could bat his servos away from the controls and throw the _Admirable_ into all manner of tricks and barrel rolls as they jetted out of the skyhook's hanger.

"No," he said, though it pained him to turn it down.

Starscream harrumphed and dropped into the co-pilot's seat, drawing his knees up to his chest like a sulking child, thrusters on the edge of the seat. 

Megatron guided the ship out the hanger slowly, tapping in the long distance com frequency for the _Nemesis_ to get a fresh set of coordinates.

"You fly like an old motherboard," Starscream criticised.

Megatron hit the accelerator just as they passed through the skyhook's force field. The entire ship juddered and Starscream scrambled to keep himself in his seat. Megatron hid his smile as he navigated the mining planet, staying just out of range of it's orbit.

"What will you do with the slaves?" Starscream asked, righting himself in his seat as he watched the planet out of the viewport. "Recruit them?"

"Leave them to their own destiny," Megatron shrugged, "Let them return home. Rebuild their lives-"

"-Start a revolution?" Starscream looked at him smirking. "Destroy their own planet in a civil war?"

Megatron scowled, gripping the controls tighter so he didn't give into the temptation to reach over and smack Starscream upside the helm.

"Shut up, Starscream."

 

* * *

 

It was a two day flight to where the _Nemesis_ was currently drifting. Once the _Admirable_ had left the Lydian system and Megatron was sure they weren't being trailed, he flicked the controls to autopilot and settled back with a weary sigh, optics burning where he'd had little recharge the night before.

Next to him Starscream stretched and yawned, 'accidentally' kicking his shoulder as he slung a leg over the arm rest of his seat.

"I think I might miss them, you know."

Megatron snorted. "Really."

Starscream took that as an open invitation to start a conversation. "We don't have to destroy the skyhook. We could keep it. I wouldn't mind having a place to relax that doesn't stink like expired fusion cells."

"The _Nemesis_ doesn't smell." Megatron argued, feeling a little defensive over his ship. "And we'll scrap the skyhook. We don't have the resources to uphold such a monstrosity."

Starscream hummed like he didn't agree, and they lulled into silence for a moment.

"Oh," Starscream sat up suddenly, his servo at his neck, "I forgot the necklace you brought me..."

Megatron looked at him, uncomprehending, "...You want me to turn around and retrieve it?"

A little smile fluttered over Starscream's lips.

"No," he said softly, "You can just buy me another."

Megatron snorted loudly.

Starscream twisted his seat to face him, leaning towards him, inspecting him.

"I'm _not_ buying you another," Megatron said more clearly.

But Starscream stood out of his seat and came over, knocking Megatron's forearm off the arm rest to make room for himself to perch. Megatron stared up into his dark face, "What?"

"We were rather good at pretending to be a couple," Starscream murmured, "Don't you think?"

Megatron found himself nodding, "Yes, we were."

Starscream leaned down. His forefinger nudged the underside of Megatron's chin, tilting it up. "Good enough to fool even Soundwave, you think?"

"A telepath?" Megatron arched his brow, leaning in too, because Starscream smelt like that xan crystal polish and it reminded him of home. "That's an overreach."

"Is it?" And then Starscream was sliding into his lap, warm but heavy. Megatron shifted his legs to make room for Starscream's knees as the seeker straddled him. "I think with _practice_...?"

The warmth that had been brewing in Megatron's tanks sparked to life. He took Starscream's hips, relishing the shape, the generous curve of them as they transitioned into the seeker's waist. He wished there was more room for-

"I'm sure my bunk can accommodate your wings." He offered.

"No," Starscream reached at the side of the chair and found the seat recline control. Megatron felt himself tilting backwards, _all the way_ back. "Here will do just fine."

Horizontal in the seat and pinned by Starscream, Megatron could only groan when he was kissed.

 

 


End file.
